Long and Winding Road
by sarahy
Summary: Dean comes back to help an old friend with a problem only he can help her with. What he wasn't expecting was those old feelings to resurface, or his little brother to get in the way. SAM/OFC NO SLASH/WINCEST R
1. Prologue

**AN:**** I don't own Supernatural, Dean, or Sam, sadly. If I did, I wouldn't have time to write. ;)**

**Also, this is my first SPN fanfic. I'm a little nervous and a little excited. So. I'm going to beg for reviews here because, apparently, I'm not above that. **

**PROLOGUE**

I had been a nervous wreck since I called Dean. I knew it would take him a couple days to get there, but I would still feel my stomach roll every time I heard my doorbell ring. It got so bad that come Thursday, two days after I had called, if I even heard a car roll down the street, I would run across the house and look through the front window. I was a disaster. I didn't really even understand why it was such a big deal. I had a crush on him, sure, but so did every other red blooded woman that came across his path. He was the bad boy with a heart of gold that makes girls weak at their knees. And he was damaged. Desperately wanting to please his father, a savage need to revenge his mother's death, and dealing with his brother's abandonment to go to college. I think that one hurt most. His mother never chose to leave him. Neither did his father, really. He was just consumed by revenge, too. But Sam did choose it, and I think that was what made it the worst. I couldn't blame Sam, although I would never tell Dean that. I hadn't been raised to be a hunter like Sam and Dean had, but my mom and dad were both hunters and I was moved around just as much. After finding my parents' bodies brutally murdered after a hunt, I vowed I would never become a hunter. Especially wouldn't raise my children in this life style. So who could blame Sam for wanting out? For wanting something normal, something healthy, where he could make friends, establish relationships. Dean did. Dean felt like Sam was saying he was too good for the family business. Of course, Dean couldn't come right out and say it. The one time I tried prying any emotion out of him, he'd said he didn't "do chick flick moments". But I could see the pain in his eyes. No matter how quickly he was able to cover it up, I still saw it.

Dean... We had met three years ago. He and his dad stopped through town hunting down Yellow Eyes, the demon that killed Dean's mom. My parents had some information, so John and Dean stayed at our house for a few days going over everything. I was 16. Dean was 22. And gorgeous. Hunting had given him lean muscles that flexed with every movement. He had sandy hair that he kept short and spiked, hazel eyes that saw right through you, and an angular jaw that screamed masculinity. I was smitten. In all the schools I'd been to across the country, I'd never seen a boy as breath taking as him. Not even close. And perhaps that was just it. They'd all been boys, with normal lives and normal parents who had normal jobs. Dean was the first member of the opposite sex I'd met that was even close to my age who could understand my life. Who I didn't have to lie to about my past or where I'd been before, what my parents did... I could be completely honest with him and unjudged. It was liberating. And I felt, at times, that he opened up to me, which I got the impression he didn't do often. Despite my school girl crush, a friendship was formed. When Dean was feeling especially lonely or I was having trouble with kids at school, the other was only a phone call away. Around the time I graduated, we needed each other less and less. It had been just over a year since I'd last spoken to him, but I needed him now. He was the only person I knew to call. My parents had refused to train me as a hunter, and I had never been interested in learning. I didn't know what to do, but I knew Dean would. He had to.

**AN: My following chapters will be much longer. This was just the prologue and needed to be short. I'm hoping to update atleast once a week. With Christmas and my daughter's birthday looming ahead of us, though, I'm not going to promise anything. Remember - reviews will make me try harder to stick to my deadline!**


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: I still don't own Supernatural, Sam, or Dean. Sigh. But I am sharing my obsession... And still begging for reviews. ;)**

**CHAPTER ONE**

When my doorbell rang Thursday morning, I had been in my bathroom brushing my teeth, so I hadn't heard the car pull up in the drive. I spit and wiped my mouth, running to the door as fast as I could. I tripped on my own feet and nearly banged my head on the bookshelves as I rounded the corner. I had so many butterflies in my stomach, I felt like I would puke at any moment. When I reached the front door and threw it open, Dean stood in front of me with his ridiculous, cocky grin.

"Dean! I'm so glad you were able to make it!" I threw my arms open and launched myself on him, feeling his hands snake around my back and hold me tight.

"Of course we came. You needed us. And I know how unprepared you are for something like this." Dean stepped back and leaned against the brick. "So are you going to let me in or what?"

I felt a light blush creep up my cheeks and stood back to let him through the doorway. I heard a door slam and glanced outside, to see a man I hadn't met climbing out of the passenger side of the Impala. I saw him stalk up the steps and felt my breath catch when he looked up at me. When he was close enough, he grimaced and held out his hand.

"Sorry. I'm Sam. Nice to meet you."

So this was Sam. Good looks definitely ran in their family. I felt my blush return ten fold as I held out my hand to shake his. The butterflies that had begun to settle had now multiplied and were taking over my whole body, clogging my lungs and making my throat feel swollen. It was spring, and yet it suddenly felt like it was a hundred degrees outside. I looked down at my hand, still grasping his, wondering about the dull hum of electricity I felt radiating from him, driving through my entire body. I looked up at Sam and he was looking at our hands, too. I heard a throat clear behind me and nearly jumped out of my skin.

"You planning on letting Sammy in, too?"

I dropped his hand in an instant, barely glancing at him before staring at my feet and moving out of the way. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam, cheeks a little pinker than I remembered, look at me questioningly before moving past me and into the house.

"Gee, thanks, Dean. You could have woken me up when we got here," Sam mumbled as he pushed past Dean, still in the doorway.

"Aw, I wanted a chance to see her first." Dean winked at me before turning and going into the living room and plopping himself on the couch. I sighed, locked the door, and took a deep breath before joining them.

"So what's been going on," Dean asked, leaning back on the sofa and raising his arms to lay on the back of the couch, his right hand falling on my left shoulder. Sam quirked an eyebrow at Dean and sat in the chair to my right.

I cleared my throat and turned slightly to face Dean.

"Well, it's like I said on the phone… There's been three deaths in two days, all three bodies were drained of blood. The cause of death is claimed to be a wild animal, but come on. What kind of wild animal would tear only at a person's neck, barely spilling any blood?"

"You're right. Definite vampire attack. Have you noticed anyone new move into town?" Sam looked at me while he was talking, then shifted his gaze to his brother, before settling his eyes on his hands as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and linking his long fingers. His long, wavy hair fell in his face and hid his eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I couldn't tear my eyes from Sam. He was gorgeous, like Dean, but that was where the similarities ended. Where Dean was lean, Sam was built. Dean's hair was short and lighter, Sam's was dark and long, falling to his jaw. Dean wasn't short by any means, but Sam was a good four inches taller. Where Dean had almost a permanent sarcastic glint in his eyes, Sam's looked soft, honest. I knew Dean to be closed off, with only two emotions- non-existant and pissed off. Sam carried himself in a wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve kind of way. I felt for Dean, I hurt for him. But I yearned to know all of Sam's feelings, thoughts, what made him tick. Some how, the crush I'd felt for Dean was now dwarfed but what I felt for Sam, whatever that was. I didn't know how to stop it or if I even wanted to.

Dean nudged my shoulder with his. "You still in there?"

"Um. Yeah." I cleared my throat and tried again. "Uh. I, um." I couldn't remember what I was supposed to be talking about. Hadn't someone asked me something?

"Anyone new in town? Sam asked if you'd noticed anyone new…" Dean was looking at me funny now, no doubt ready to break out the holy water and pour me a shot of scotch to rinse it down.

"Oh. No. I haven't noticed anyone. Who ever it is must be hiding pretty well, blending in."

"Did you know any of the victims," Sam asked quietly, looking me in the eyes and holding my gaze.

I felt my heart thud as I struggled not to look away. I shook my head and stood, breaking eye contact. I felt Sam's eyes still on me as I turned to Dean, desperate for an excuse to get out of there and catch my breath for a minute.

"I'm dying of thirst. You guys need anything? I've been a rude host, let me grab you something…" I felt the words rush from my mouth and had to bite my tongue to make myself shut up.

Dean smiled up at me lazily. "A beer would be great. You got any, Darlin'?"

"Of course. I made sure to stock up on Lonestar when you told me you'd be coming." Lonestar was Dean's favorite beer. He'd had it for the first time on a hunt in Texas and had mentioned how hard it was to find anywhere else. I happened to know where to find almost anything in town and didn't have any trouble at all tracking down a couple twelve packs. I turned to Sam, looking at my hands. "Sam? Would you like anything?" My heart thumped in my chest as I mentally cursed myself for my choice of words. I knew exactly what I would like and wouldn't deny Sam if he wanted the same.

Sam cleared his throat. "A beer's fine, if you don't mind."

I nodded and rushed to the kitchen, brushing past Sam on the way.

I opened the fridge door and stuck my head in. My hormones hadn't gone this crazy since I was making out with my first boyfriend and we were rounding third base. Sam wasn't even touching me and I was a hot mess.

Once I felt my body temperature had dropped a little, I pulled the beers out and placed them on the counter. I grabbed my bottle of rum from the freezer and poured a shot, slamming it back. I shoved the rum back in the freezer before I was tempted to down another. I just needed to get loosened up a little, not so much that I wouldn't be able to control what came out of my mouth. I grabbed the beers and a bottle of water for myself before heading back to the living room.

Dean and Sam were hunched over, trying to carry on a quiet conversation from where they had been sitting. I froze in the doorway before it occurred to me to take a few steps back. I leaned against the wall where they couldn't see me and, shamefully, eves dropped.

"What are you doing, Sam," Dean hissed.

"What do you mean what am I doing? What are you doing? You're the one getting all possessive. Was there something more between the two of you that you never told me?"

"I'm not being possessive. The girl's not even legal, Sammy. Back off."

Just then, I sneezed. Of course, I would sneeze. I plastered a smile on my face and hid the confusion as I barreled through the doorway and into the living room.

"Here you go, guys." Big grin. Calm breaths.

"So, Haley, how'd you get the beer, anyway? You can't be more than… 17?" Sam shot a challenging look at Dean and looked back at me.

"Well, my parents were hunters, so I've had a fake ID for years. I've kept in contact with the guy they used and updated it a couple times… I'm nineteen."

Sam looked back at Dean, speaking directly to him, "Well. What do you know?"

"Alright, well… Haley, do you have any news articles from the deaths? Any information that could help out?" I offered a weak smile and went to my home office to grab the file I'd put together. The guys and I then took everything to the kitchen table where we could spread it out and go over it all.

Sam and I both were lost in our laptops looking for clues when Dean's stomach growled loudly. I bit back a giggle and looked up to see Sam snicker.

"Alright. Enough work for now. Who's hungry?" Sam and I both nodded in agreement. "That burger place still around here," Dean asked, rubbing his stomach. I knew exactly what place he was talking about, too. It was a little local dive he'd had a fit over when they had first came through. I smiled and nodded in response. Dean jumped up, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. "Alright. I remember how to get there. Be back later, bitches." Dean jingled his car keys on his way to the front door. Moments later, I heard my door slam and shortly after, the car rev.

I sighed and looked up at Sam, who was still staring at his computer screen.

"Do you think he really remembers how to get there?"

Sam grinned. "He never forgets a place that's fed him."

"How does he know what I want?"

"He'll guess. It wouldn't matter if you'd had time to give him your order, either. He'd still get you whatever he thought you'd like better." I smiled at that. It didn't surprise me. It sounded just like something Dean would do.

"So how many times has he been off? Has he ever gotten your order _right_?"

"Oh, he'd completely fuck-um. Sorry." Sam glanced down and I chuckled. "He messed up my order several times. It took almost three months of me complaining and threatening to take the Impala out before he finally started to bring back something I would have ordered for myself."

"How long have you two been hunting together, then? How long have you been out of school?"

"So Dean told you about that? I was under the impression that it was more of an embarrassment that I quit to go to college." Sam shrugged his shoulders before he continued. "We've been hunting since Dad went missing. Almost a year and a half."

"A year and a half? Wow. I thought Dean would have told me if you'd been hunting together that long. It seemed like something he wanted so much, that he'd be thrilled to share the news." I paused, thinking over what I'd just said. "I hope that didn't come out wrong."

Sam shook his head. "Nah." He looked at his hands for a moment, then back up at me. "Why haven't you two talked lately? Was there a falling out or something?"

"Between me and Dean? No. I guess it was just a combination of me graduating high school, and… Well, and you coming back. I guess we just got busy, caught up in our own lives."

"So, was there ever anything between you and my brother?"

I laughed out right, then.

"Um. No. I'm guessing he told you about the crush I had on him when I was 16?" I felt my cheeks turn pink. Nothing like admitting to a current crush you used to have a thing for his brother. At least I didn't have to admit that crush lasted until the moment Sam climbed out of the car.

Sam's shoulders raised and fell with a deep breath. "I don't know. He's just been acting a little-"

"Alright, bitches. No complaining about what I got you to eat," Dean called as he threw the front door open, allowing it to hit my wall. I was seriously going to kick some ass if he knocked a hole in the sheet rock.

I stood and started stacking the papers we still had spread all over the table while Dean brought the bags and set them on the counter. I could hear him opening and shutting cabinet doors, I assumed looking for plates, as I took the file folder and my laptop back to my office. When I came back in the kitchen, three plates were on the table, each with a cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake beside.

"Dean, are you wanting all of us to suffer from early heart attacks? Is it not bad enough that you plan to send yourself to an early grave?" In spite of Sam's seriousness, I couldn't help but giggle.

"I said shut-up, bitch," Dean muttered.

Sam chuckled, "jerk," before taking a bite of his burger.

Dean took a huge bite before glancing at me, barely chewing before swallowing hard and gulping down some of his shake.

"So are you going to eat that or what?"

I shrugged before picking up a couple fries and shoving them in my mouth. "You know, Sam... I think it could be argued that both of you are trying to send yourselves to an early grave. Dean's death just may be from more natural causes."

"Nah. We're careful. And death can't hold us. You know how many times we've died?" Sam winked at me. He actually winked. As cheesy as the gesture was, I felt my insides quiver just a little.

And then I felt myself get a little panicky.

I remembered how many nights I'd lost sleep over worrying for Dean. He'd told me countless times over the phone how he and his dad had almost been ripped apart by a windigo or zombie or whatever they were hunting at the time. I had seen the scars across his stomach and chest the week they were here when I had accidentally walked in on him after his shower. I pretended I was only staring at his scars, especially the long, thick, raised one. The one that followed along his right ribcage from his sternum, ending just inside his right hip, somewhere under the towel that hung low on his hips. I had written about wanting to run my hands over those abs that night in my diary. About how desperately I wanted to touch him and have him touch me back. That I craved for him to kiss me; yearned to have him press me up against a wall and tangle his hands in my hair and lose himself with me for just a moment.

I could feel my heart rate speed up as my body began to warm at the memory. Before I could stop it, I felt a whimper escape, sounding far-off. Mortification brought me back and I hoped no one else had heard it. I glanced at Sam, who was studying his plate, then at Dean, who was staring back at me.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth, hesitating only a moment. "You okay over there?"

**AN: Ok. So that's two updates in two days. I can't promise to move that fast from here on out, but hey. At least I'm sticking to my "one update a week" guide line. And thank you thank you to the few people that have added me to their alerts and reviewed and such. That's what got me so eager to post again. Now. Review. :)**


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

I cleared my throat and looked down at my burger, which I'd barely touched. I took a deep breath, looked Dean in the eye, and struggled to keep my voice even as I replied. "Never better." And I winked at him. I winked at him! That was his move and I felt like such a dumbass for using it. It seemed to take some of the pressure off, to make it in to a joke. Dean just rolled his eyes and sucked down the rest of his milkshake. My ears still felt awfully hot, though.

We sat in silence as we finished our food. I was still too humiliated to think of something to talk about and Sam looked lost in thought. Dean just focused on his food. When he finished his, he started picking fries off my plate.

"What? It's not like you're going to finish all of that," Dean shouted when I swatted his hand away.

"Your brother is sitting right next to you. Eat his food."

"That little tap was nothing compared to what Sammy here would do," Dean chuckled.

Sam sighed, sounding frustrated. "Dean. I'm not Sammy anymore. Sammy is a pudgy twelve year old. It's Sam now."

I smiled. "What would Sammy here have done?" I couldn't not tease him after that. I had to call him Sammy just the once. Sam just rolled his eyes.

"What. You're going to give me hell but not say anything when Haley here calls you Sammy?"

Sam shrugged, looking at his plate and playing with his fries. Looking up at me from somewhere under his mop of hair, he replied. "I don't mind it so much when she says it."

"Aw, Sammy," Dean grunted, "where's the brotherly love?" Dean stood and wrapped his arm loosely around Sam's neck, trapping him in a headlock.

"Dean. I told you-" Sam nearly growled as he half stood, twisting his shoulder into Dean's stomach and knocking Dean to the floor, Sam on top of him. "It's _Sam_ now," and Sam pinned Dean to my kitchen floor with his forearm across Dean's collar bone.

"Come on, Sammy, baby brother," and Dean flipped Sam over, knocking Sam's chair over with Sam's long legs. "You know I can kick your ass. You're out of practice."

Sam brought his leg up and over Dean's head, catching Dean with his heel and knocking him back. Sam pinned Dean between his legs and folded his arms, resting them behind his head. Sam closed his eyes and looked like he was resting while Dean struggled against the hold.

"Okay, Sammy, I get it. You're not out of practice. Will ya let me up now?" Dean flailed again and accidentally knocked another chair over.

"I'm sorry. We shouldn't have been clowning around in your house like that." Sam jumped up and righted the chairs.

I shrugged and leaned against one of them. "No harm done. Besides, I kind of enjoyed that little display of manliness."

"Oh, honey, I've got a manly display you won't be calling little," Dean grunted as he stood, dusting himself off. He came and stood right in front of me, leaned against the table, and gave me his big eye-krinkling, dimple-inducing, cocky grin. And I felt my stomach roll in response to him being so close and so sure of himself. I had to take a step back to calm my nerves.

That s.o.b shot me a shit-eating grin and closed the space between us.

He dropped his head a little, looking me in the eyes, and lowered his voice. "So where am I sleeping tonight?"

My breath caught and I turned my attention to Sam. "I guess you'll have to fight your brother for the bed." I tried my best to saunter off. I, of course, knew I was talking about which one would get the guest bed and who would get the couch. I had a feeling neither one of them realized it was the guest room I was talking about.

I was sitting at my desk going back over some of the stuff in my file when I heard the impala's door slam and my front door shortly after. A throat was quietly cleared behind me and I turned to see Sam in the doorway.

"Is there any way you can tell Dean I get the couch?" Sam smiled at me.

"And waste a perfectly good bed?" I smiled back and blushed, realizing how he would take it.

"Um." Sam turned a little pink, too. "I don't want to be in the way."

I smiled wider as I stood. "I have a guest room. In here," I pointed down the hall and brushed past Sam to show him where the extra bed was. My breath caught when my arm grazed his and I saw Sam flinch out of the corner of my eye, probably thinking I was insane. Or sex crazed. I wasn't sure which was worse.

"It's a queen bed, so... You could share? Or flip for it? I've just got the couch out in the living room, other than this."

Dean came up behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder, startling me and causing me to jump just a little. Dean laughed. Of course.

"I don't care if we're brothers. Guys don't share beds." He back handed Sam in the stomach to get his attention. "Rock, paper, scissors."

I watched Sam roll his eyes and pump his fist three times before laying out "paper". Dean looked at Sam's hand, then his own "scissors", and without missing a beat, shouted, "winner gets the couch."

"Dean, you can't change the rules just because you lost." Sam was definitely annoyed.

"We never established any rules, so I'm not changing them. I'm informing you of them after the fact." Sam tried arguing with Dean but he wouldn't let him speak.

"Eat it, bitch. You get the couch." And Dean pushed past Sam to throw his duffel on the bed.

"Jerk," Sam sighed. "Come on, Dean. My legs are longer than your's. You know I won't fit on the couch."

Dean flopped on the bed, laying his head on his crossed arms and crossing his ankles. "Not my problem."

Sam rolled his eyes and muttered "jerk" once more before heading towards the living area. He stopped and turned to me. "Hey, where's the restroom?"

That simple question brought back my memory of walking in on Dean. I pointed to the door across the hall and told Sam to be sure and lock the door, as it was the only bathroom in the house and sure to be in high demand. I heard Dean chuckle from behind me and could feel myself turn beet red. I turned slowly to look at him so I could better judge what he was about to say.

"Unless you fancy yourself getting walked in on, that is. Then, leave it unlocked on purpose." Dean held eye contact the entire time, something he rarely did.

"I- You mean you-" I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to determine if he was being serious or not. Sam looked at us curiously before heading back towards the couch.

Dean sat up and laughed at me again. "Yeah. I knew the door was unlocked. Didn't you ever wonder why I wasn't more surprised when you barged in? I was just hoping it was you and not your dad. Ha. That man could read minds. I'm sure he would have been less than thrilled to learn of my intentions."

"And what, exactly, were your intentions?"

"Well, intentions might be a little strong of a word... I mean, you were just a kid."

"Dean, I was sixteen. And not exactly virginal."

"Sorry to interrupt. I was hoping I could see your file again, Haley." Sam was watching me, leaning against the door frame. Dean scooted a little closer to me on the bed, eyeing Sam. The looks they were shooting each other were making me uncomfortable.

"Sure, Sam." I stood and went to my office to grab the file.

As I was leaving the room, I ran smack in to Sam, dropping the papers out of the file folder I was holding and nearly tripping over my own feet trying to get out of his way. Sam laid his hands on my shoulders to steady me, smiling brightly, as if teasing me, holding my gaze with his own. Sam's hands slid slowly down to my upper arms, still holding me only inches from himself.

I felt him a little closer but never saw him move. It was if we had floated towards one another. My stomach was rolling and my nerves were humming. Every inch of my body was aware of how close he was. The jovial look in his eye was gone, replaced with something questioning, searching. Sam's expression was all seriousness now and I couldn't place why it had changed.

My breathing was erratic and my face felt flushed. I felt nervous this close to Sam but I couldn't make myself take a step back. Sam seemed to be closer still, and all I could think about was what it would be like to kiss him. I wondered if he was really moving closer to me or if I was just so insanely focused on him that all the space between us seemed to fall away.

Sam looked like he was about to say something, as he leaned in a little closer still. I quit breathing altogether, my entire body focused solely on Sam, mere millimeters from being pressed against me.

Suddenly Dean came charging out of the guest room, nearly plowing in to Sam's side, asking something about a bar nearby, his voice booming. I gasped for breath, my lungs finally remembering to breathe once my concentration was broke. Sam offered me a half smile, swept the pad of his thumb across my cheek, and said something about having something on my face.

And then I was mad. I didn't know who I was most mad at or entirely why, but I was fuming. I was mad at myself, positive that Sam knew I had desperately been wanting him to kiss me. I felt like such a fool, having stood there waiting for _something_ to happen. _Needing_ something to happen. And I was mad at Dean for interrupting. Because even though Sam apparently hadn't been planning on doing what I had been hoping, I was still mad Dean had interrupted the possibility. But mostly I was mad at Sam. I was sad and angry that he hadn't kissed me; I had wanted it so bad, I had been so obvious, and he hadn't kissed me. I was mad at him that I wanted him, and mad at him for not feeling the same.

As if he could help it. But, neither could I.


	4. Chapter 3

**AN:**** In my rediculous effort to get ch 2 posted, I didn't do a great job editting. That's what I get for editting in the middle of the night and posting first thing the next morning without going back over it. Oh well. Please excuse the errors, especially the blatant 'rock, paper, scissors' one. Obviously, Sam was supposed to have thrown 'rock', and Dean, 'scissors'. Thanks, Raine, for pointing that out. ;)**

**That having been said... I don't own Supernatural, Dean, or Sam. **

**CHAPTER 3**

I heard Sam and Dean go over the bars listed in the newspaper article as I excused myself to my room. I left my door open a crack, not bothering to go back and shut it when it didn't swing all the way closed. I toed off my sneakers and stripped down to my underwear, crossed my room to my dresser, and dug through my pajamas to find something I wouldn't mind being seen in. When I settled on something, black yoga pants and a black cami, I readied myself in case I ran in to Sam. My anger and hurt had subsided, but I was still overwhelmed with embarrassment.

I made it in to the bathroom and brushed my teeth without incident. When I opened the door, however, I ran smack in to Sam. Again.

"We've got to stop meeting like this." I sighed inwardly and took a step back. I tried to look around Sam into the hall, half expecting Dean to come barreling into him at any minute.

"If you're looking for Dean, he's not here." Sam planted himself in the doorway and crossed his arms.

"I'm- Dean's not here?" I was going to protest looking for him because I wasn't. Not really. Him not even being there caught me completely off guard.

Sam sighed and moved to lean against the wall by the door. I took a couple steps forward to lean against the door jam opposite him.

"He went to one of the bars listed in that article. One the guy disappeared from. He's scoping the place out... I wouldn't expect him back any time soon." Sam looked down at the floor briefly.

"Oh." It felt like such a lame reply, but I couldn't think of anything else to say. "Is it really a good idea? For Dean to go alone? I mean, is he safe?"

Sam snorted. "He'll be fine."

"Why didn't you go with him?" I expected an answer about it being more productive if they split up or something else hunting related.

Instead, I got, "Well, someone needed to stay here with you."

I didn't know whether to be flattered or offended.

"I need to take a break on the research. Do you mind if I watch tv?" Sam smiled sheepishly at me. I got the feeling he didn't like asking for things.

"Sure. Let me just get you the remote." I walked into the living room and grabbed the remote off the tv to hand to Sam. When he reached to take it, our hands touched again and I felt the same spark. I think I even gasped. Sam shot me a strange look before dropping his hand. I felt my face flush from the embarrassment of it all. I must be getting crazier and crazier in his eyes.

"Well, here you are. I have cable, so you should have plenty to choose from. Um. Let me know if you need anything, ok? And make yourself at home..." I turned to walk back to my room when Sam put his hand on my arm.

"You know you can stay. I mean, if you want, we could watch a movie together or something."

My insides did a little dance as I tried to answer nonchalantly. I settled on a curt nod and sat on the couch, Sam sitting less than a foot away.

"So what would you like to watch," Sam asked as he flipped channels. Before I'd had a chance to reply, he had found something. "Do you mind scary movies? This is my favorite and it just started…" Sam was watching me hesitantly.

I know I should have been thinking, "Oh! A scary movie! Maybe he'll hold me and comfort me and chase all the monsters away." But really, I was thinking, "My parents were hunters. I should be tougher than this. I'm going to end up jumping out of my skin and screeching like a little girl." In the end, I didn't want to let Sam down. And I wanted the chance to share something with him that he really enjoyed. I didn't know how many more of these opportunities I would get.

"Sure. Scary movies are great. I haven't seen this one, yet, either." I mentally kicked myself the whole time I was talking. "So what's this one called?"

"House of Wax." Sam made it clear that discussion time was over. I watched him settle in and get comfortable. I leaned back and tried to do the same, but my nerves were on edge. Every time Sam would shift, I would flinch. We were nearly half way into the movie before I could settle down enough to actually know what was going on. As luck would have it, as soon as I calmed down and got comfortable, some hot guy's skin would start coming off.

I did my best to make my flinch look like I was just changing positions when this Wade character was attacked. I don't think Sam bought it, though, when I tried to cover up my gag as a cough. I glanced at Sam out of the corner of my eye to see if he noticed. He definitely had, but I had firing power, too.

"Alright, big, bad hunter. Is that mean man too scary for you?" I was getting massive amounts of pleasure out of this.

"Hey, I'm not the one that jumped a foot in the air. Want me to scoot a little closer so I can save you from the tv monsters?"

I tried not to frown. "I'm not the tough guy here."

"You're right. I am. Come here." Sam gave me a goofy grin and raised his arm for me to curl up under. I wasn't sure if he was serious or not and hesitated for a beat before he motioned again. I leaned on him hesitantly, still keeping a little space between us.

"And I wasn't scared. The dude was getting his skin peeled off. By his friend. It's the only scene that gets me." I chuckled a little and allowed myself to relax more.

I was still focused on Sam, so when a loud bang sounded from outside, I nearly came unglued. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sam glance over at me, a huge shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He dropped his arm from the back of the couch and wrapped it over my shoulder, hugging me to his side.

"Hmph." I tried not to grumble too much at his mocking. After all, I didn't have much to be sore about. The guy I fancied had his arm around me and he smelled delicious. I took a deep breath, breathing him in. He had a light musky man smell and a hint of cologne. The combination was intoxicating.

Just then, there was a knock at the door and I jumped again. Sam was having a swell time trying to muffle his giggles. I shot him a questioning look and he shrugged in response. "Probably Dean. I locked the door after he left."

I regrettably got up, taking my time, hating leaving his side. I unlocked and swung the door open, noticing a trail of white stuff on the floor around the door. I bent to inspect it.

"You laid salt lines? Good job, Sammy," Dean said. It took me a minute to catch on. Salt lines. I had completely forgotten about my parents laying down salt to keep the spirits and demons out.

"Dean," began Sam, already sounding exasperated. "I'm not a kid anymore. Of course I remembered to lay salt lines."

"So what did you guys do while I was getting my ass chased?" Dean quirked an eyebrow at Sam and looked at the tv. "Scary movie, huh? Haley, I thought you hated scary movies? I mean, that's what you told me when I tried that move on you..."

"Dean, come on, its-"

"Chased?" I interrupted Sam. "By who?"

Dean showed his cocky smile. "Oh, I had it handled." Another cocky grin. "Besides, it was just a jealous boyfriend."

I rolled my eyes. One of many reasons Dean was only good to look at. The guy couldn't keep it in his pants for 48 hours.

"Dean, you didn't..." Sam didn't sound happy.

Dean hesitated, clearly just to annoy Sam that much more. "Naw. Not that I didn't want to." Dean winked at Sam and glanced at me.

"On that note, I think its time for me to head to bed."

"Aw, darlin', don't be jealous. You know you could have me if you'd just ask."

"Yeah. Me and half the town," I scoffed. I raised my hand in an abbreviated wave. "Night, guys." And I turned to head to my bed.


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: I can't believe I've gotten two chapters done in such a short time, but here ya go. Ok, ok. It's not the once a week or whatever I originally hoped for. RL is playing havok with my muse. And, as always... I don't own Supernatural, Sam, or Dean. Sigh. **

**Chapter 4**

That night, I woke up screaming. I hadn't had a nightmare in years, not since my parents died. I was panting, trying to catch my breath, and clammy. I heard a crash in the living room and my bedroom door was thrown open. Sam burst into my room, eyes darting around. His eyes rested on me and I jumped out of bed and ran to him. Without thinking, I threw my arms around him and pulled him close.

"I'm so glad you're ok," I whispered into his chest.

Sam only hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around me. "I'm not the one that was screaming. Is everything ok?"

A groggy Dean stumbled into my room, bumping into the door jam on the way and muttering a slew of curse words. "What's going on?"

The reality of the situation hit me. It was just a dream. Just a very bad dream about Sam. I was suddenly embarrassed. I pulled back from Sam and stared at my feet. "Nothing. I'm ok. Sorry, guys. Go back to sleep." I pulled the covers back on my bed and climbed in.

"Now that we've got that settled, I think its time for some more shut eye," Dean mumbled, scratching his chest as he stumbled back to his room. Sam sat on the edge of my bed.

"So what happened?"

"Nothing. It was just a bad dream. I'm fine." I couldn't look Sam in the eye. I didnt want to explain to him what had shook me up so bad.

"Come on. Talk to me," Sam whispered as he scooted a little closer. "Did it have anything to do with the movie we watched last night?"

I felt a blush creep into my cheeks and hoped it was dark enough that he couldn't see.

"Yeah... I- You- We were in the movie."

Sam shot me puppy eyes. "And?"

"And... Ugh." I took a breath before starting again. "And you got wax poured all over you. And I was the one trying to pull it off to save your life. And your skin was coming off in my hands." I felt like an idiot, but tears were streaming down my face.

Sam smiled at me. The jackass smiled at me. "Can you go back to sleep? Want me to stay for a while?" I tried talking Sam out of staying, I didn't want to be treated like a kid, but he did anyways. When I fell asleep he was sitting on my bed next to me, his right hand playing with my hair, keeping me snuggled in to his side. When I woke, he wasn't there.

I heard the bathroom door shut and tiptoed out of bed to peek into the hall. I saw Dean walk towards the living room. "I'll tell you what, Sammy. That was the best shower I've had all year. Sammy? Where'd'ya go?"

"I'm the kitchen, Dean." Sam had that agitated tone I noticed he got with his brother a lot.

"Coffee. Thanks, man. How long've you been up?"

"I didn't go back to sleep."

"You've been up since 2?" I started to creep out into the hall, my mind spinning at ways to make it up to Sam. "You hard up or something?"

I heard Sam sigh as I rounded the corner into the kitchen. "Dean..."

"Hey, guys. I'm running low on breakfast rations. Wanna go grab something?"

Thirty minutes later we were in the impala. I was in the back seat giving directions to Dean to the diner when Dean turned up the radio, cutting me off. Before long, Dean was singing along. Loudly.

"Will some woman in this desert land, Make me feel like a real man? Take this rock and roll refugee, Oooh, baby set me free, Ooooh, I need a dirty woman." Dean chuckled and over at Sam, then back at me in the rear view mirror. "You need a dirty woman, Sammy?" Sam's cheeks turned a little pink but he didn't reply. Instead, he turned to look out the window. Dean caught me in the mirror watching Sam, and I, too, turned to look out the window.

The rest of the ride was filled with classic rock from the radio station Dean had apparently found the night before. The three of us opted to stay mute until we had filed into the diner, taken our seats, and placed our orders. Dean characteristically ordered as much as Sam and I combined.

Once the waitress had brought our orange juices and coffees, we began to discuss in hushed tones what Dean had, or more accurately had not, found at the bar last night.

"Zip, nada, squat. I found nothing. I thought for sure I'd pull something up there, too, since it was the only place that had a male vic. I mean, who can resist this face?" Dean split his face in a huge grin. "So I guess tonight, Sammy, we'll try one of the other bars."

Hesitantly, I cleared my throat. "Actually, I was thinking maybe I could go with you tonight? It might help if you had, like, bait."

"Absolutely not," Dean replied before taking another bite of his pancakes, signaling the end of that portion of our conversion.

"Woah. Dean," Sam shot Dean a brief look before eyeing me cautiously. "I think it might be a good idea. It might work."

The better part of the next hour was spent planning and plotting. We covered what, exactly, my job was. Dean gave me specific orders on what I was supposed to do, and emergency words in case things got out of hand. Words that I, under no circumstances, would use in a normal conversation. Phrases like, "hey, big daddy," and asking the bar tender for a "royal fuck." I argued against them both, but if I wanted in on the action, I was at their mercy.

When we were ready to go, I grabbed the bill before Dean could. Dean shot me a mildly dirty look.

"I'm the one with the paying job, I'll pay. Besides, it's only fair. You're here to ensure I don't become someone's meal. I should provide you with your's." Dean rolled his eyes, but didn't argue. I wasn't surprised he didn't put up a fight over free food.

"Speaking of jobs, we're not keeping you from your's, are we?" Sam asked, holding the door open for me as we left. Dean was already half way back to his impala.

"Oh, no. I called in sick yesterday before you guys got there. My boss is a germ-o-phobe. She gave me all of next week off." I smiled at the prospect of a week's vacation. And because Sam held the car door open for me to climb in back. The chivalry was refreshing.

"Must be nice since you're mom and dad left you the house. Phew. What I'd give for a free place to stay every night," Dean said, catching up with the conversation and starting the engine.

When we got back to the house, Dean wanted to go back over all the information I'd need for that night. What signs to look for to spot vampires, what to do if I suspected one, etc. I rattled off all the answers I knew he was looking for, already bored with the conversation. Sam was sitting in the kitchen going back over my notes, typing stuff in to his laptop, when I got up to grab a drink.

"Dean driving you crazy yet?"

I grinned at Sam. "A little. We've gone over the same stuff, like, ten times."

Sam closed his laptop and looked up at me. "Don't be offended. He does that with me, too. He's just really protective of the people he cares about. Even if he'd never admit it." Sam paused, intertwining his fingers and looking down at his hands. "Are you sure you don't want to back out?"

I pulled out one of the chairs and sat next to Sam. "I'm positive. You need a female to help weed this guy out. I should at least get some training on how to defend myself. You'd think I'd be better prepared, considering my parents' occupations. I had to call Dean at the first hint of trouble, though."

"While I like the idea of you being able to defend yourself, I don't like the idea of you getting hurt while we use you for a hunt."

I leaned forward a little, a coquettish grin on my face. I couldn't help it. "But you're not using me. I volunteered." I was half hoping Sam would pick up on my double-entendre.

He just cleared his throat. "Yes, well…" And he opened his laptop and began typing again. I sighed and stood, the chair scraping against the tile floor as I pushed it back in. I walked back into the living room and looked at Dean, sighing.

"Well, what now?" I asked, positive he had something else in mind to train me for that night.

He didn't let me down.

"Physical training. Go get changed and meet me in your back yard."

I groaned. I couldn't keep the near-growl back as I walked to my room. I remembered how John would wake Dean up at five a.m., making him run miles around the neighborhood, push-ups, pull-ups, sparring, whatever he could squeeze in. I was not looking forward to the same routine. And I desperately hoped Dean wasn't the drill sergeant that his dad had been.

I pulled on some cotton shorts, a little apprehensive about their short length, and a long tank top. I dug out the sneakers I only wore a hand full of times a year, usually opting for flip flops, and tied them tight. I glanced at the alarm clock beside my bed. Not even noon yet.

I had to go back in the kitchen to get to my back door, so I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge on my way out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam glance up at me, then do a double-take.

"What does he have you doing now," Sam asked, closing his laptop again and standing.

"Physical training. I don't know. I think he's trying to make me not want to go tonight." I smiled up at Sam as I walked towards him, going for the back door.

"Not a bad idea. I'll come out, too. You'll probably need a partner for some of the exercises." And Sam opened the door for me, again, and ushered me through with a hand placed gently on the small of my back. Heat radiated outward from where he touched me and my heart pounded. I felt like such a child, getting bent out of shape over a guy. I tried telling myself it was just a chemical reaction, chemistry and what-not, as I walked over to where Dean impatiently stood.

"You finally ready," Dean asked, arms crossed over his chest just like I remembered John standing in my yard when we first met. This was not a good omen.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

**AN: So please, please review. I've gotten some awesome ones so far and they really motivate me. Total awesomeness. Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 5

**AN: Again, I don't own Supernatural, Sam or Dean. Sigh. The things I could do if I did...**

**So. Please read and review. I'm hopeless without knowing what you awesome readers think. And mega thanks to Raine for helping me out with the technical stuff. I'd still be floundering on CH1 without her. :)**

I spent a good hour sparring with Dean and Sam. They each took turns punching me and telling me to hit them back. One of them would grab my elbow or fist and reposition it for a better follow-through. I was already sore when Dean glanced at his watch and signaled something to Sam. Before I even had time to question them, I was pinned to the ground, Sam's heavy body laid on top of mine. There was no way I could move; I could hardly even breathe.

"Alright, Haley, try and get out of his hold."

I struggled desperately for a few minutes before giving up and going still. "Who says I want to?" I practically purred. I felt Sam chuckle against me.

"Come on, Haley. I need you to take this seriously. Try and get up." I shook my head and pounded the floor three times like I'd seen wrestlers do.

" I can't."

That was the wrong thing to say. For a mile-long list of reasons.

Dean had Sam lay on top of me for the next hour, coaching me on various ways to get out of the hold. When I'd finally get one move down, Sam would have to shift so I could learn another. Once, Sam shifted and I could have sworn I felt something other than his leg brush against the inside of mine. I gasped and immediately blushed. Sam hurriedly moved both his legs to my side, still pinning me to the ground, and Dean asked what the hell was wrong with me, causing me to blush even more fiercely. How, exactly, was I supposed to tell him that his brother pinning me down was turning me on, and I kinda suspected it was turning him on, too?

Eventually, Dean jerked his thumb over his shoulder. Sam climbed off of me and I took the thumb jerk to mean we were done and could go in.

"Finally," I sighed, and started towards the house. I only made it three steps.

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean barked.

"Um. We're done, now, right?"

Dean grinned at me and shook his head. "Oh no. We're just turning the tables. You get to pin Sam now."

"I'm sure Sam has better things to do… Sam, you can go in if you want."

Sam smiled at me and my stomach fluttered. "I'm not complaining." What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"But-" I didn't even know how to rebut it or why I was even trying. I wanted nothing more than Sam crawling all over me, but at the same time, I was nervous as hell about it.

"Look, if you're going to learn how to fight, you're best bet is the Jolly Green Giant over here. He may not be stronger than me," a wink and a chuckle, "but he is bigger." And my mind was instantly drug into the gutter, thinking about when Sam had me pinned just minutes ago. I couldn't hold back my snicker.

Sam glanced at me and smiled. I wondered if he could read my thoughts; the hot, naked, suspicions I had buzzing around in my head.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm bigger where it counts," Dean wagged his eyebrows suggestively. "Now get to it," Dean said, clapping his hands.

"You ego?" I asked sweetly when I walked past him.

I heard Dean grunt before he lowered his voice to talk to Sam. Moments later, Sam was standing directly in front of me, looking at me expectantly. Somehow, I suspected the things I wanted to do wasn't what he was waiting for. I looked at him quizzically.

"Pin me."

I felt something rise inside me when Sam demanded that, voice low and gravelly. His eyes were locked on mine and my whole body was on fire.

I heard Dean say something, but it was hazy, sounding far-off and under water. Everything disappeared around Sam. I couldn't transfer my focus, I couldn't move aside from the single step forward I took. I could barely feel his breath on my forehead as my heart hammered in my chest.

Dean clapped me on the shoulder, shaking me out of it. "Come on, Haley. Get him to the ground. What the hell are you waiting for?"

"Oh. Right." I took a step back and a deep breath. I took in Sam's wide shoulders, strong arms, and hard stomach. He had long muscular legs, feet planted soundly. There was no way I was knocking him down. Not without him letting me…

I heard Dean sigh from a few feet off and Sam smiled slightly. "Hook your leg between mine and pull my leg out," Sam whispered, talking me through different moves. I did what he said, step by step, and watched him stumble. Once I'd gotten the steps down, I tried them all together.

And somehow, it worked. We both ended up on the ground, me sitting on Sam's stomach, bent over him slightly to hold his arms out beside him, my feet hooked back behind me over Sam's legs, resting high up between his thighs. Sam's eyes grew darker and I could feel his breathing pick up as his heavy breaths caused me to rise and fall with his chest. The fire inside me was back and I felt like I could hardly breathe.

Dean came over to us, taking hold of my arm to help me up. "Lunch time."

I smiled tentatively at them both and headed inside. Not before I heard Dean mutter something to Sam, and Sam reply, "Jerk," before he started walking off.

"Bitch," Dean called after him. I shook my head and walked inside, towards the kitchen, wondering what I could pull together for lunch. There was no telling what those two were arguing about now.

After scrubbing the dirt and grass stains off my hands, I began rummaging in the pantry and fridge. I pulled out some pasta and chicken and got to work. Dean and Sam came in a few moments later.

"Aw. Are you cookin' me lunch, darlin'? How incredibly domestic." Dean came up behind me and put his hands on my hips. I froze, unsure how to react. I heard Sam clear his throat a little loudly. When I turned around, Dean backed up, a smirk plastered on his face.

I rolled my eyes at Dean and turned to Sam. "Do I have time for a quick shower?" Sam took a couple steps closer and reached out to touch my sore shoulder. "It seems we got a little dirty when we were rolling around out there." Sam shared his lopsided grin and looked at Dean out of the corner of his eye. "You should come let me clean that up for you." Sam took my hand and pulled me towards the bathroom. I knew I should say something, but I couldn't make my brain and mouth work together.

I heard Dean groan from the kitchen. "Don't worry about it. I'll keep an eye on the food."

Sam stopped just outside the bathroom and turned to me, still holding my hand. It wasn't the high school 'I-have-a-thing-for-you' hand holding, but it still gave my heart a work out, beating extra hard and faster than usual. Sam pointed in the direction of the closed toilet. "Sit. Do you have any ointment?" I pointed to the medicine cabinet above the sink. Watching him in the wife-beater and jeans, muscles flexing as he gathered supplies, I was rendered speachless. Never before has a man looked so good dirty. His wavy hair was a mess, his body and his clothes had dirt and grass stains, he even had a smudge across his cheek bone. I was certain I looked just as messy but was positive I couldn't pull it off nearly as well as he did.

Sam sat on the edge of the tub with a cold wash cloth and began to gingerly wipe at the back of my shoulder. It was just a little scrape, I had planned to just wash it off in the shower later, but I wasn't going to turn away the extra attention from Sam. Not a hot, dirty Sam leaning in so close.

Sam spread the antibiotic ointment on and put a bandage on top. "There you go," he whispered, his husky voice sending thrills through me.

"Thanks," I whispered back, my voice cracking a little when we made eye contact. I desperately hoped he didn't notice. Sam didn't make a move to get up and neither did I. We sat like that, a foot away from each other, for what felt like hours and milliseconds at the same time. I glanced back at the smear on his cheek bone and with out thinking reached up to wipe it off, my fingers were nearly in his hair as my thumb slowly ran across his cheek. Sam froze. My breath caught and my heart hammered in my chest. I froze. I didn't even move my hand, I just left it there like an idiot- the touch bordering passionate. Sam's eyes still held mine, but his expression had changed. Somehow, I had turned so I was now fully facing Sam. He tentatively put his hand on the outside of my thigh and leaned forward slightly. I let my hand run back the rest of the way so it was now fully tangled in his hair. I still felt like I couldn't breath, the anticipation so great.

"Hey, Haley? I think your lunch is done," Dean shouted.

Sam closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. I took that moment to calm myself as well.

"Um. Thanks for cleaning that up for me. I'll, uh. I'll go finish lunch. It'll be ready when you get out." I rushed back in to the kitchen , my cheeks flaming red, visions of a dripping wet post-shower Sam running through my head.

"What the hell took so long? He have to stitch you up or something?" Dean was sitting in a kitchen chair, leaning it back on two legs, facing me. "Aw. Did he put a Band-Aid on you? That Sammy. He's a regular saint."

**AN: Well. There you have it. Chapter 5. Let me know what you thought? Your reviews make my day. Hell, they make my week. :) And. Only 10 more days until SPN is back on. Yay!**


	7. Chapter 6

We ate lunch in silence, Dean shooting Sam and I suspicious glances every so often. I couldn't sit still. My whole body was buzzing. I alternated between tapping my foot and drumming my fingers. After a while, Dean had had enough.

"Alright, already. Where's the marching band?"

I hadn't even realized I'd been doing it. I apologized and shoved my last bite in my mouth. When I took my plate to the sink, I saw Sam shoot Dean a dirty look.

"I'm taking a shower, guys," I announced on my way out of the kitchen.

I heard Sam hiss at Dean once I'd rounded the corner. "Dean, was that necessary?" I was too far away to hear Dean's reply, if he ever did.

I took an extra long shower, allowing the hot water to calm my nerves. I was wound so tight I felt like I would spontaneously combust if Sam got too close. After I got out and got dressed, I crossed the hall to my bedroom and checked my alarm clock. It was almost four. We had agreed to leave for dinner at seven so we could get to the bar around nine. Most of the murders had taken place between ten and midnight.

Not knowing what else to do with my time, I walked into the living room to see what the guys were doing. Both were dressed in suits, sitting on the couch, flipping channels.

"Wow. You guys look sharp," I said, coming in and standing beside Sam.

"I feel like a freaking Blues Brother," Dean grumbled.

Sam rolled his eyes, stood, and faced me. "We're going to go meet with the coroner. You'll be okay here by yourself?"

"I've made it this long."

"Yes, well, you didn't have demon magnets staying in your house then." He took a step forward and my heart went crazy again. "I've already laid the salt lines, except for the front door." Sam handed me a business card, his hand lingering for an extra moment. "That has my cell number. I want you to call us if you suspect anything out of the ordinary."

"I already have Dean's number," I replied, smiling.

"Yeah. I, uh. I forgot. Just. Keep it. You can call me if he doesn't answer or something."

Dean was off the couch and heading for the door when he stopped and leaned his head back in frustration. "Let's _go_, Casanova."

Sam smiled and they walked out together, the engine purring to life and "Back in Black" blaring through the open windows moments later. I couldn't help smiling for no reason in particular as I grabbed the salt and laid a thick line against the front door. Then I sat back and watched television for an hour before I even considered getting ready for that night.

I walked out of my room at 6:45 ready to go. I had to admit, while I felt sexy, dressing like that wasn't a regular occurance. I was wearing a denim skirt with a frayed hem, so short I knew I would be conscious of the length all evening. My top was black, form fitting, and sleeveless, with the first couple buttons undone. I even put on a little make-up. My light brown hair was down in waves and pushed behind my ears.

When I walked out to the living room, both Winchesters were sitting on the couch ready to go. Dean was wearing jeans, a black t-shirt, and his leather jacket. Sam was wearing his usual t-shirt and jeans but had an open button down over with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked amazing.

I leaned against the wall by the tv, drawing the guys' attention. I felt my stomach clench as I watched Sam give me a once-over. "I guess I'm ready when you are." I tried to sound confident, but it came out mousy.

"Niiice. You really clean up." Dean stood and came over to me, holding his hand out. I took it, wondering what was up his sleeve. He pulled me away from the wall and had me do a little turn. I felt like such an idiot. "Heh. Not bad at all." Dean nudged me and waggled his eye brows. When I just rolled my eyes, he shrugged and walked to the door. "Well, time to rock and roll."

Sam held the front door open for me and stayed behind while I locked it up. Dean was already in the car.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yeah. A little." The sad part was, I was less nervous about finding a vampire than I was standing next to Sam. My body went haywire whenever I was anywhere in his vicinity. I felt like I was in a science experiment for chemical reactions.

"You'll do fine. And Dean and I will be watching you. I won't let anything happen." Sam smiled in earnest then and I felt a strange pull at my heart. All I could do was smile back.

It wasn't terribly crowded at the bar, still early after our quick dinner, but I could tell the place would start filling up soon. Dean found us a table while Sam and I went to order drinks. Sam kept his hand on my lower back the whole time, glancing around frequently. I could tell he was already on alert. When we found Dean and made our way to the table, he and Sam immediately started discussing prospects. I just enjoyed my drink and the music.

Despite the frequency of Dean telling me to "act normal", it took him pouring three drinks into me before I could loosen up- "purple nurples", by his insistance. By that point, I was perfectly okay with calling attention to myself out on the dance floor. Well, on the out skirts of the dance floor, since I wasn't yet drunk enough to forget I was putting myself in danger. I was fully aware of where Sam was at all times, and I swore to myself it was just for safety reasons and not because I was afraid he'd hit on another girl. I did, however, notice Dean flirting with a couple different blondes and caught Sam roll his eyes once.

We'd been there two and a half hours and I was getting tired of dancing alone. I bounced up to our table and gave Dean a meaningful look. I figured as many women as he had wooed, surely the boy could dance. And, it couldn't hurt that the place only played rock. He cocked an eyebrow at me and I pointed to the ceiling, indicating the speakers.

"Oh, no. I don't dance." He nudged Sam with his elbow. "Go out there, Sammy. Shake your thing."

I was afraid Sam would feel put on the spot, but he didn't act like it. He stood and took my hand and led me to the dance floor without saying a word.

I closed my eyes, and let the music take over. I raised my hands and moved my body and breathlessly mouthed the lyrics.

"Knockin' me out with those American thighs, Taking more than her share, Had me fighting for air, She told me to come but I was already there…"

I felt Sam place his hands high on my hips and move with me. I tilted my head up, my eyes still closed, but I was smiling. I couldn't knock that stupid grin off my face. The movement was so erotic, I was quickly imagining what the real thing would be like. Sam pressed up against me and whispered the chorus. I was shocked he knew the words.

"The walls were shaking, The earth was quaking, My mind was aching, And we were making it and you- Shook me all night long."

I opened my eyes to see Sam looking down at me with a devlish grin plastered on his face, too. I smirked at him just as he rolled his hips, emphasizing maybe it wasn't his mind that was aching. It created an ache of my own, though, and I gasped. His hands slid lower and grabbed hold of my hips and I laid my hands on his arms, clenching his sleeves. We were still moving together and when the song ended shortly after, I was struggling to calm my nerves, or hormones.

Sam smiled at me and excused himself to the restroom, I headed back to the table to grab my water. I was still well inside the crowded dance floor when a man laid his hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see what the hell this guy wanted. I looked him over, waiting on an explanation. He had a mess of bronze hair and piercing golden eyes.

"I was wondering if I could buy you a drink?" The stranger asked. I politely told him 'no,' that I thought I'd had enough. "A dance, then?"

Something about the way he was looking at me was throwing sirens off in my head. I shook my head and turned to walk off, when he grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him.

"Then let's just step outside so we can get to know each other a little better."

He held me tight and drug me by my arm towards the back exit, between a small stage and the restrooms. I knew the way he was holding me would look innocent to a bystander, and he was a hundred times stronger than me. My only hope would be Sam or Dean seeing me. I searched the crowd hysterically, trying to find Sam and Dean. Right as my assailant threw the back door open, Sam came out of the restroom. He was about ten feet from me and there were people between us, so I was afraid he wouldn't see me. I was shouting his name, but I could barely even hear myself since we were right next to the stage speakers.

Somehow, Sam still spotted me just as I was pulled through the doorway.

The guy had me pushed up against the brick of the building, my arms twisted hard behind my back. I could feel his hot breath against my neck as he came close. I heard gravel kicked around to the side of me, like more people were approaching. I screamed out at Sam in my head to hurry up.

The metal door banged open, falling back shut with a slam seconds later. I heard a blade being unsheathed, gurgling, the door open and bang shut a second time, and running. I was pushed harder into the wall, scraping my cheek and shoulder on the brick, and then let go. I fell to the ground and hugged myself into a fetal position, trying to stay far out of the way and unnoticed. When I finally opened my eyes, it was to see Dean running after two guys down the alley behind the bar, and Sam decapitating the asshole who nearly bit me. I saw the blood spill from his neck and his fangs retract into his still-open mouth.

I stood on shaky legs and immediately retched.

**AN: In case anyone was interested, the song I referenced in the last chapter was "Young Lust" by Pink Floyd. Sam and Haley danced to "Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC in this chapter... And, of course, I couldn't have even finished this chappie if it wasn't for Raine. I can't imagine how many times I texted and emailed her over the last several days! Thanks, girlie! And. I'm desperate for your reviews. What did you think? :)**


	8. Chapter 7

**AN: Wow. Two updates in two days? I blame the hellatus for nothing else to do...**

**And, of course, thanks to Raine. You helped me through some "authenticity" issues I couldn't find any other way around. You rock.**

_I stood on shaky legs and immediately retched._

Horrified, I looked up at Sam, hoping he hadn't seen.

"Well, Sammy, it looks like those two got away." Dean was walking toward us, dusting off his hands. "I only have an idea where they were headed, I didn't see them go in anywhere." Dean glanced at me, wearing a worried expression. "She ok?"

"Yeah. She just threw up, but I think she'll be fine," Sam answered. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, mortified. There went the hope he hadn't seen me puke.

"No. Dude, I mean was she-"

"Oh! No." Sam interrupted Dean, but I knew what he was going to ask. Was I bitten. Would they have to kill me. I opened my eyes and tried to take a step forward.

Dean turned to me. "Sit down," he pointed to a place on the ground that was untainted by either blood or my vomit. I quickly obliged.

"Where the hell were you? I thought you were watching her?" Dean was hissing, trying to whisper and yelling at the same time. I knew he didn't mean for me to hear, they were several feet away, but I could, looked at his feet briefly before looking over Dean's shoulder, down the alley somewhere.

"I went to the restroom, Dean." I could see Sam exhale, his shoulders rising and falling in a defeated breath.

"Dude. Please don't tell me you actually..."

"Ugh. Dean? No, okay?"

"Oh yeah? I saw how you two were dancing out there, all over each other. It's okay, man. Just next time make sure she's somewhere safe first."

"Dean." Sam was standing, facing Dean, with his arms crossed over his chest. I could tell Sam was getting agitated. And Dean just loved pushing those buttons.

"Okay, okay." Dean held his hands up as if to surrender. "But I think you're blushing, dude. You might want to find a way to calm yourself down." Dean wasn't even bothering to hold back his laughter now. It would be just like him to tease the hell out of Sam over something like this.

As I sat, listening to their conversation, I began to sober up. The shock of what had happened was wearing off and the cloud was dissipating. My stomach no longer rolled when my eyes moved of their own accord to the severed head mere feet from me, or the blood pooled on the alleyway.

"Alright, then. Let's get her home and in bed." I saw Sam's cheeks redden a bit. "Mind outta the gutter, Sammy." Dean was definitely chuckling as he walked over to me. "Up and at 'em." Dean reached out to help me up and held onto my elbow once I was standing. "Time for you to get home."

"No, no. I'm fine, see?" I smiled wide and shook Dean's hand off my arm to prove I could stand alone. "We're already here, you already killed one of 'em, and scared the others off. I doubt they're going to try hunting again tonight. We might as well enjoy ourselves. Celebrate." I smiled again, pleading. I knew if I went home I would just have nightmares. I could use a couple good, strong drinks.

Dean ran a hand over his face and stared me down. "Don't make me regret this."

I smiled in appreciation, opened the door, and headed straight for the bar. I slammed a shot before grabbing drinks for the three of us and heading back to the table. Sam and Dean were talking, but quit when they saw me approach.

"By all means," I motioned to the two of them, "don't let me stop you."

Sam just smiled and grabbed one of the beers I'd placed on the table. "Thanks."

We sat and chatted for a while about everything and nothing. An hour had passed and I needed to go to the restroom. I stumbled a bit climbing off the bar stool and it sent me into a fit of giggles. Sam looked at Dean when I doubled over, laughing even harder at a passing thought. I couldn't even remember what I'd found so funny seconds later, but it was hilarious at the time.

Sam placed a hand on my back and bent over a little to be heard. "How about I walk back there with you, just to keep an eye out?"

I stood and nodded, wiping at my eyes. I let Sam pull me through the crowd to the back of the bar, still holding my hand tight. When we reached the restrooms, Sam got in line with me.

"You gonna go in there with me, too, Mr. Protector?" I think I actually batted my eyelashes at him. I was embarrassingly drunk. My inhibitions were down and I was sure I was going to push some limits tonight. I just hoped I didn't cross them because I knew the lines were blurred in my state. Everything was blurred. I felt _good_.

"Um. No. I'll just wait out here."

Just then, as if I couldn't make a big enough fool of myself on my own, Joan Jett came on and I couldn't help but sing along.

"We've been here too long, Tryin' to get along, Pretendin' that you're oh so shy, I'm a natural ma'am, Doin' all I can, My temperature is runnin' high." I hummed and shook a little until I remembered the rest of the words. "Talking's fine, If you got the time, But I ain't got the time to spare, yeah. Do you wanna touch-" By now I was holding both of Sam's hands, serenading him. Just remembering it is enough to put me off alcohol.

I danced and twirled, still waiting in line. I don't know how I managed not to knock in to anyone. I imagine everyone was steering clear of the lunatic.

Even I could tell I was slurring but it didn't stop me from continuing.

"All you do is sit and stare, Beggin' on my knees, Baby, won't you please, Run your fingers through my hair. My, my, my, Whiskey and rye, Don't it make you feel so fine, Right or wrong, Don't it turn you on, Can't you see we're wastin' time, yeah. Do you wanna touch- Do you wanna touch- Do you wanna touch me there?"

I was still singing when it was my turn for the restroom. I gave Sam's hand a little tug and let go. I think I was offering for him to come in for a little action, but I really had to pee. The last thing I wanted was for him to come in. Sam did the right thing, though, and shut the door behind me.

When I came out, Sam was leaning against the wall opposite. He came over to me and wrapped an arm around my waste. "I think its time to cut you off."

I frowned, but in all honesty, I was a little tired after the show I put on.

Sam led me back to the table but Dean wasn't there. I saw Sam pull out his phone and send a text. I laid my head on the table to wait.

Next thing I knew, Sam was nudging me, trying to get me to stand up. I stood and Sam wrapped an arm back around my waste. "Let's see if we can get you out to the car."

"You feeling sick?" Dean got close to look at my face. "'Cos if you're gonna puke, we can call you a cab."

I heard myself offer a muffled, 'just tired', but everything was getting fuzzier and I was concentrating solely on walking. When we finally got to the car Sam nudged me a little into the back seat. I fell into it and shut my eyes, allowing myself to drift in and out on the way home.

I opened my eyes when the radio was turned up and found Dean grinning at Sam. Dean started singing along with whatever was on; I didn't recognize it at first.

"In the silence of her mind, Quiet movements where I can find, Grabbing for me with her eyes, Now I'm falling from her skies, No sugar tonight in my coffee, No sugar tonight in my tea." Dean turned the volume back down a little when I groaned. I closed my eyes again, but I was still awake.

"No sugar tonight, Sammy boy."

I heard Sam sigh, frustrated, "Dean," and Dean just laughed in response.

Sam took a deep breath and tried again. "Dean, what's the deal with you and Haley? Cut the bull this time."

I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear this, where it was going. I tried to tell them I was still awake but it just came out as a groan.

"Sammy, what are you getting at?" Dean sounded tired.

"I like her, Dean, I just don't know where you guys stand."

"She's not even legal, Sam."

"Dean, she's 19."

"21, Sammy. She isn't 21." Dean definitely sounded tired now, though I assumed it was more from frustration. Both guys sounded a little on edge.

"So you don't want her, but you don't want me with her, either?"

Dean sighed again. "We're on a case, Sam. A case she called us for, to help protect her. If you get involved with her now, well... I just don't want it interfering with how you do your job. We could have lost her tonight, because you weren't keeping it professional."

"Dean, you're with girls all the time when we're on a case."

"And I'm a professional." I could hear Dean laugh lightly at his joke. He dropped his voice a little before going on. "Ok. You want to just bang it out and get it out of the way? Go ahead, I'll stay out of the way."

"Dean, its not like that and you know it." I released the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"I know. You genuinely care about who ever you're with, and you become distracted from the hunt. I don't want you to get hurt, Sammy. And, hey, I gotta tell you," Dean's voice rose a little, I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood. "You've done worse. At least Haley isn't a monster. I mean, what was up with wolf-girl?" I could hear the light-hearted teasing in Dean's voice.

"I seem to remember you having a thing for Madison, too. In fact, that seems to happen a lot. I think I see a trend developing."

I heard Dean grunt. "What trend?"

"Girls you go after seem to be picking me."

"Just warming 'em up for ya, Sammy."

I felt the car turn into my drive and the engine shut off. I stretched but couldn't be bothered to sit up. The backseat wasn't particularly comfortable, I was just that tired.

I heard both doors creak open and felt the car shift as Sam unfolded himself from the front seat.

Sam opened the back door and leaned in a little, placing his hands on either side of my knees as I was still laying on my side, my knees pulled into my chest a little.

"Haley, can you sit up so I can help you in?" Sam was talking quietly, carefully.

I rolled onto my back, raising my knees, effectively putting him between them. "Well, hello, Sammy." I lowered my feet and hooked my heels on the end of the seat and pulled, scooting myself down. Sam and I were at eye level now and he was still between my legs. I closed my knees a little, so he could feel them on either side of his hips. Sam jumped, banging his head on the roof of the car. He pulled himself out of the car and stood, holding a hand out to me.

"Let's get you inside to bed."

I smiled, trying to flirt a little. "Mmm. Yes, please."

"You know, I thought that after that little nap some of the alcohol would have worn off," Sam said as I took his hand and he helped me out of the car.

"It's not the alcohol talking." But, of course, it was.

"Yes, well, let's wait and make sure."

I smiled and stood, my knees buckling almost immediately. I grasped at Sam's shoulder to keep from falling. "Wait. Let me try that again."

"Let's just try it this way, instead." Sam placed an arm under mine and had me in his arms in seconds. He cradled me as he carried me inside to my room. I rested my head against his chest until he gently laid me on my bed. He pulled my shoes off my feet, raised the covers up over me, and brushed my hair out of my face. I knew I was going to be hung over as hell in the morning, but I felt great just then. I fell asleep with the warm fuzzies taking over.

**AN: Ahhh. So what did you think? Need those reviews! I'm stuck on CH 8. **


	9. Chapter 8

**AN: I want to say a HUGE thanks to everyone that's taken the time to leave a review. I'm trying to make sure I send a personal thank you to those that I can, but those that I can't- THANK YOU! It means a lot. Really. And, alas, I still don't have any ownership what-so-ever in Sam or Dean. Life's just not fair sometimes... **

I woke up at four in the morning, stomach already heaving, and had to make a mad dash for the toilet. Never before have I had to try to be quiet while my insides threatened to split me open. After purging for nearly an hour, I curled up on the floor and lay my sweaty face on the cool tile.

When I woke up, it was just starting to get light outside. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, wishing I had enough energy to stand and brush my teeth. That would have to wait just a bit longer, though.

I stretched my legs out and nearly knocked over a glass. I reached to retrieve it and was touched that it was a glass of ice cold water, sitting next to a bottle of Tylenol. Perfect.

I lowered the lid of the toilet and crawled onto it, filling my mouth with the water and spitting into the sink. I took the pain killers and laid my head on the bathroom counter to wait for them to kick in. I felt like my brain was swollen to the point of bursting.

"You know there's a really good hangover remedy, it's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray."

My eyes flew open and my stomach rolled. Dean was leaning against the door frame with a satisfied smirk. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed my stomach to settle down from the image Dean had supplied me with.

"Dean, that wasn't nice," Sam chastised. I opened my eyes to see that Dean was gone and Sam was crouched in front of me instead, sitting back on his heels. "Try to ignore him. He does that to me all the time." Sam paused and looked me over. "How are you feeling?" I just wrinkled my nose and shrugged. Sam nodded in understanding. "Dean and I are going to run to that diner. Call me if you decide you want anything?" I nodded and tried to smile. Sam laid a hand on my knee briefly, then stood and walked out.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes, gauging if I was ready to stand yet. I decided it was time to brush my teeth and lay back down. I could get up when the boys came back.

It was nearly noon when I heard my door open and finally decided to crawl out of bed. I made it into the living room to see Sam taking off his jacket and laying it over the back of a chair. He was dressed in his suit again, his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up a couple times and the top button undone. Dean was no where in site so I assumed he was in his room.

"Hey. You're up." Sam had a gentle, soothing smile and I couldn't help but smile in return.

"I can't believe I slept that long." I walked around the side of the couch that was closest to Sam and sat down.

"You were pretty sick this morning." Sam sat next to me, leaving little room between the two of us, and leaned forward on his elbows.

"Yeah. Who brought the water?"

"I did. I hope you don't mind. I waited until I was sure you were done, but you were already asleep by then, so I just left it in there. I didn't want to wake you and chance you getting sick again." Sam was leaning back against the couch now, watching my expression. He turned toward me, placing an elbow on the back of the couch, his hand nearly touching my shoulder.

I rubbed a hand over my face trying to hide some of my embarrassment. "I woke you up? I am so so sorry... That was really sweet of you, though. Thank you." I couldn't hold back my smile. As guilty as I felt for waking him up, I was extremely touched that he bothered to bring me the water and Tylenol.

Sam's smile reached his hazel eyes and I felt my heart skip. I itched to run my hand through his hair, to snuggle up to him, to hold him close. There was something so tender and honest in him.

Sam shrugged but never dropped his smile. "You needed your rest. Feel any better?" Sam let his hand drop a little, one finger grazing my shoulder and sending chills through me.

"Good as new." I couldn't knock the goofy grin off my face, either.

"Good." Sam stood and took a couple steps towards the front door. "I need you in tip top shape for tonight." Sam shot me a mischievous grin and opened the front door. Before I had sense enough to ask what he was talking about, he was outside and the door was shut.

It didn't take him long to come back in, but as the seconds ticked by I became more and more anxious. What was going on that night? My stomach fluttered as I thought about all the possible out comes.

Sam dropped a canvas duffel on the coffee table in front of me.

"You're going to help me get the weapons ready in the mean time.

"I felt my eye brow shoot up as I looked at Sam, the canvas bag, and back again.

"I'm what?"

Sam began pulling guns and ammo and cleaner out of the bag. "How much crap do you have in there?" Sam just handed me a gun and brush. "You know I don't know how to clean this thing, right?"

"Do you even know how to shoot it?"

"Um. Maybe?"

Sam laughed at me. "Then next we'll work on some shooting lessons."

Sam sat down next to me and spread a couple cloths out on the table. He laid a gun, brush, and a bottle of what I assumed was cleaner on top. He picked the shotgun up and began to disassemble it, pausing halfway through and looking at me expectantly. I picked up the gun that was in front of me and looked at it, turning it over in my hand. I looked at Sam for help, unsure what to do and afraid I'd end up firing it. Sam laid his gun back on the cloth and the corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were fighting a smile. He scooted closer to me and took both of my hands in his, showing me what to remove and how without saying a single word. The movements were somehow erotic, his fingers ghosting over mine. He grabbed a rod and attached a cloth, dipped it in solvent, and placed it in my hand. Sam's eyes held mine as he showed me how to run the rod in and out of the barrel, removing any residue. Sam replaced the cloth and repeated cleaning the barrel, his eyes never straying from mine. Maintaining a gun was so second nature that Sam could do it with precision, never watching what he was doing. After the inside of the barrel was cleaned, Sam grabbed a rag and dampened it with oil. He took my hand and ran it down the barrel, around, and back up. I think I stopped breathing when I looked down and watched our hands moving together, gently up and down over the barrel of the shotgun. When I looked back up at Sam, he was watching our hands, too. After a couple staggering heartbeats, Sam looked back up at me. His eyes were dark as he cleared this throat and dropped my hands. I felt naked, somehow, with him no longer touching me.

"Um. Well, I… You know how to clean a gun now. Just, uh… Wipe down the rest of the metal parts with that rag…"

I watched Sam for a moment longer, as he picked up his gun and finished where he had left off. He seemed to avoid touching me as he worked, holding his arm at an odd angle at times. I sighed and tried to ignore the hundreds of swarming thoughts as I picked up various gun parts and wiped them down. When I was done, I set everything back on the table and leaned back to watch Sam some more. He moved considerably faster alone than we had together and was almost done as well. When he finished reassembling his gun, he moved over to reassemble mine as well, then wiped down both guns with a dry rag, set those guns aside, and pulled out more.

We worked on cleaning the guns for nearly another hour, then Sam showed me how to pack rock salt shells. He was still careful not to touch me and would only look at me for a split second the few times our eyes did meet. Because Sam was holding back so much, I began to hold back as well. The tension was driving me insane.

I glanced at the clock on the wall over the television as my stomach grumbled. I was definitely hungry.

"Dean should be back soon with food."

"Oh. Where is he?" I knew he'd been awfully quiet for Dean, but it had never occurred to me that he wasn't even there.

"He went to scout out some locations for tonight." Sam was still looking down, packing salt shell after salt shell.

"You never told me what's going on tonight."

Sam did look up then, and a smile finally broke on his features. "You and I are going on a stake-out."

I put the open shell I'd been holding back on the table. "A stake-out? Like sitting in a car all night drinking cold coffee watching an empty building?"

"More or less."

Just then, I heard the Impala rumble into the drive and the engine cut off. Dean came through the door carrying two bags of Chinese take out. "Dinner is served, bitches."

Sam rolled his eyes as he packed everything away. "Jerk."

I caught Dean's shoulders shake in a chuckle as he walked into the kitchen, dropping both bags on the table. I grabbed plates and glasses and set them on the counter, filled my glass, and sat at the table. Dean and I were pulling Styrofoam containers out when Sam walked in, grabbed his plate, and stood patiently by his chair.

Dean quirked an eyebrow at him and pointed at the boxes. "Dude, you gonna eat? Dig in."

"I'm just waiting. I'm being polite, Dean. It wouldn't kill you to try it some time."

"Aw, Sammy boy, you don't have to get your panties in a twist."

Sam heaved an agitated sigh. I rushed to finish filling my plate and grabbed a pair of chopsticks, sat back and stayed out of whatever issue was going on between the two of them.

Most of dinner was spent in silence. Both times I reached to refill my plate, Sam was reaching for the same thing. He would advert his eyes and pointedly change the course of his hand so as not to touch me. I was beginning to feel like I had the plague. Dean kept shooting sideways glances at Sam throughout the meal, finally coming right out and asking about it.

"Did something happen while I was gone? You have a lover's quarrel or something?"

I felt my face heat up. "No, Dean. We didn't fight. We just cleaned the guns." My voice was barely above a whisper.

"Oh…" Dean looked like he suddenly understood and just sat there, nodding minimally, for a moment. "So it's sexual tension, then." He said it matter-of-factly, then promptly dropped it, finished his food, stood, and placed his plate in the sink. "You know, Sam, I have some magazines that might help with that." And then Dean was out of the room, leaving Sam and I facing each other across the table, trying to look anywhere but at each other.

**AN: This is the part where I remind you that there's a little "Review" box down there somewhere. Please push it. Oh. And leave a few words. Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 9

**AN: I just want to say a huge thanks to everyone who has read this, left comments, and shown any form of support. Letting other people read my work is both exciting and nerve-wracking, sharing something so intimate. So for everyone that's taken the time to show you appreciate it, I appreciate YOU. You all are awesome.**

**And thanks to Raine, my beta and BFF. I think I'm starting to bug her about this, I obsess over the story so much. But I couldn't do it with out her. Love ya!**

**And last but not least... Sam and Dean are mine. At least, in my head they are. But in RL? I have abbsolutely no ties to them what-so-ever. :'(**

I kept my eyes on my plate as I finished my last few bites. I stood, took my empty plate and cup to the sink and rinsed them out. I walked to my room sat on my bed, and opened a book. I never once even looked at Sam.

Mostly, I didn't know what to say. Dean suggesting there was sexual tension between the two of us made me even more anxious around him. I was certainly tense. But I didn't think that was what Sam's issue was.

I read the same page three times before I finally gave up and tossed the book in the corner, a loud "thump" sounding against the wall I shared with Dean.

"Everything okay in here?"

I looked up from where my book had landed to see Dean, jeans and a white tee, right arm raised and leaning against my door frame.

"Peachy." I tried my best to smile without it looking too forced.

"So what's going on?" I couldn't bring myself to tell Dean I was moping because Sam was acting weird around me now. Instead, I just heaved a sigh and started picking at a loose thread on my duvet.

Dean watched me for a minute, his expression blank. I tried to avoid looking at him, feeling scrutinized and not knowing what conclusion he might be coming up with. After a while, though, I couldn't help but look up at him.

"What?"

Dean cracked a smile. After a beat, the smile turned in to a full blown laugh.

"_What_?" I had raised my voice the second time, loosing patience.

"You and Sam. Both of you are going bat shit crazy and neither are willing to do anything about it. You need to work that tension out."

"And you're saying you're well adjusted or something?" I couldn't hold back the scoff. I didn't know Dean well, I doubt anyone did, but I knew him well enough to know "well adjusted" did not describe him.

Dean smirked at me and looked to be considering the best answer. He cocked his head to the side and replied, "No. I'm just well fed. Now scoot here." I carefully looked Dean over, wondering what was up his sleeve. "Relax. I'm just going to rub your shoulders. I'm gonna make you ask me before I work out your tension elsewhere." I just rolled my eyes and crawled to the foot of my bed, my back to Dean. He worked on my neck and shoulders for a while in silence. I could feel myself melting, pudding in his hands.

"Besides. No matter how much I made you scream in the bedroom, it'd probably be Sammy's name on your lips. He's more for spooning after, anyways."

I went ridgid. I could feel heat rise to my cheeks and ears. Dean never took his hands off my shoulders, though, and felt when my posture had changed. He pushed my head back down and wiggled my shoulders, forcing me to relax a little.

"And trust me, I'd make you scream." My heart jumped a little at Dean's suggestion and when I felt him laughing behind me it made me self conscious. I looked over my shoulder to see what was so funny and saw Sam. He was standing to the left of Dean, well into my bedroom. There was no telling how long he'd been standing there; I hadn't heard him come in. It was probably safe to assume that he'd heard what Dean had just said, though.

Sam was clearly pissed about something, the way he was glaring at Dean made it hard to miss. Dean was unphased, however, continuing to knead at my back and shoulders while smirking at Sam. Watching Sam was making me uncomfortable so I turned my eyes down to my lap. I could feel Sam's eyes on me but I wouldn't allow myself to look up.

Dean clapped me on the shoulder, sighing, before dropping his hands. "I guess I'll give you two some privacy, then."

I waited until Dean was out of the room before I turned to Sam. Sam looked at me, then down at his feet.

"So. We have a little time before we have to leave if you still want some shooting lessons."

I didn't answer until he looked back up at me, and even then, all I would do was nod. I didn't want any of his foul mood directed at me.

Sam nodded and walked out without saying anything. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to follow him or not, so I waited a minute before trailing behind. When I caught up to him, he had the green duffel and was headed to the back door. He held it open for me then continued to the middle of the yard, still without speaking. I stopped a few feet from him, waiting for Sam to make the first move.

Sam back tracked a couple long strides, closing the space between us.

"We're just going to work on holding the gun, getting the feel of it. I don't want your neighbors calling the cops when they hear gun shots." Sam smiled a little, looking down, almost bashful. "So. Here's the shot gun..." He handed it to me, showing me how to hold it, where to look to aim, how to line it up. Sam told me just to hold it for a minute, get a feel for it, the weight of it. He tried explaining how it would kick if I shot it, that it would hurt. He told me to aim it and came up behind me. Sam put his hands lightly on my hips as he looked down the rifle to make sure I had it lined up properly. Then, he slowly ran his hands down my arms. I froze; I think I stopped breathing. Sam's voice was nearly a whisper when he placed his hands just in front of mine on the shotgun and told me to hold tight. He jerked the gun into my shoulder, simulating the kick from a gun shot. It hurt like hell. Had he not been standing behind me, I would have fallen on my ass and dropped the gun. Instead, I fell into him, Sam wrapping his arms around me to steady me in a knee-jerk reaction. As soon as I relaxed into his hold, though, Sam let go and took a step back.

"Sorry. I probably should have warned you." Sam was looking anywhere but at me. "Is your shoulder sore?"

Sam came a little closer and raised his hand to look at my shoulder, but dropped it at the last second. He looked at me finally, an unknown expression contorting his features. It was only there for a split second before his expression cleared and he was ready to hit me with the damn gun again.

"You did good, but let's try it again. You're going to need to be able to hold it with out it knocking you backwards." Sam stood by as I lifted the shot gun to my shoulder again, bracing myself.

Sam stood to the side of the gun this time, leaving plenty of room between us. When he saw that I had the gun up and leveled, he charged it into my shoulder again. Even when I was tensed and expecting it, the force knocked me back a foot or two. And I was positive a bruise was beginning to form. But at least I didn't fall.

"Is it really going to hurt that bad when I shoot this thing for real?"

Sam smiled apologetically. "Yeah. But you'll get used to it."

I looked at my shoulder and then at Sam. I sighed and raised the gun again. I tried to look him in the eyes but he kept looking at various places behind me. My shoulder hurt like a bitch, Sam was getting all stand-offish again, and I was feeling pissy.

So when Sam came up to me to check the alignment of the gun and made sure not to touch me again, I flipped. Rejection can do funny things to a person.

"Ready? Just one more time, and then I want you to handle the hand guns. Those aren't as bad." Sam was keeping a safe distance from me, standing only as close as he needed to to help me with the gun. When his arm accidentally brushed mine and he flinched, I'd had enough.

I tossed the gun at Sam, catching him off guard and nearly causing him to drop it.

"No. I'm done." And I turned around and stalked back toward the house. I was nearly at the back door before Sam bothered to say anything.

"Haley. Wait."

I didn't stop. I was in the house and already in the hallway, heading to my bedroom, when I heard Sam slam the back door. I stopped in my tracks and took a deep breath. Dean bumped my shoulder slightly as he tore past me down the hall, into the kitchen. I gritted my teeth and continue to my room, irritated at Sam's audacity. Slamming _my_ door?

"Dude. What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean wasn't bothering to keep his voice down, clearly annoyed also. Sam must have been controlling his voice because I couldn't make out what he said. "Look. You need to get a handle on this hot and cold shit. And remember. I'm not afraid to touch her." I could hear Sam growl out a response but couldn't make it out.

I heaved a sigh and rolled my eyes as I took the last step into my bedroom and closed the door a little. I picked up the book I'd thrown in the corner and set it on my night stand, then sat in the edge of my bed and placed my head in my hands.

I heard a brief knock on my door before it was gently opened. I sighed and turned to see who it was.

"It's nearly dark. We'll need to leave soon, if you still want to come..." Sam's eyes were turned to the floor, but instead of avoidance, he looked uncomfortable.

"Um. Sure. I'll get ready."

**Ok. There you have it. Are yo uready to be locked in a car with Sam now? I am! *sigh* Somewhere down there is a review button. Push it, please? Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 10

**AN: I need to thank Raine, again, for helping me so much with this chappie. I couldn't get it right and obsessed and had her read so many different versions, I lost count. 3 you. Really. And thanks to everyone for taking the time to favorite me or the story, and for leaving comments. Those keep me going. And make me feel guilty when I don't update fast enough. Or as fast as I'd like. And sometimes... Guilt's a good thing. ;) And of course, this goes with out saying. I am in no way related to the show and I have no ownership of Supernatural, Dean, or Sam. :( I'd like to have Sam, though...**

Sam and I picked up chicken sandwiches on the way out. We ate in silence, then sat for another thirty minutes just staring out the window. Finally, Sam turned the radio on low to drown out some of the awkwardness. It was still tuned to the classic rock station where Dean had left it.

"So is it customary to be so quiet during a stake out? I mean... Is it, like, a requirement?" I was hoping we wouldn't have to sit in silence the whole night.

"Huh? Oh. No. We can talk." Sam offered me a weak smile but seemed distracted.

"Well, then, what do you want to talk about?" Sam just shrugged and half-smiled again. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and watched Sam for a moment instead. I chose the first random thing that popped in my head, forgetting that it was a possible sore subject. "Hey, Sam? I think its really great you went to college. I know it sounds weird, but I'm kinda proud of you. For you."

Sam looked at me funny for a minute, then took a breath before responding. "Thanks." Sam smiled genuinely and I think my heart my have melted just a bit.

Smiling, I continued. "I wanted to go to college. I don't even know what I'd study. You were going in to law, right?" Sam nodded, still smiling. "Tell me about it. What was it like?"

Sam talked for nearly an hour, telling me about the parties and the lectures, the late night study sessions. He seemed happy, at peace, remembering.

"So why did you leave school?"

Sam glanced out his window a moment before replying. "I needed to help Dean find Dad. He was on a hunt and was missing..."

I leaned in a little, concerned about John. He was a hard guy to like, and even harder to get to know, but I had liked him, none the less."

Is he ok? Did you find him?"

My hand had been on the console between us and Sam took it in his own, turning to me and leaning in a little. I could tell this was bad. This wasn't what you did or the expression you held when you shared good news.

"We found him. He was just on a hunt, still looking for a demon that was important to us." I nodded. The Yellow-Eyed demon. I knew about him from when John and Dean had come through before. "Your parents had some information on him, right?" I nodded again. "He died last year, making a deal with that demon." Sam looked me in the eye, waiting to see how I would take that information.

I felt a stab for him. Since I had lost both my parents, I knew how he felt. John had been a hard ass, but he was a good guy.

I turned my hand over and wove my fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze. I leaned in a little more and placed my other hand on his knee. "I am so, so sorry." I couldn't project louder than a whisper, and my voice cracked even with that. "I know what its like. Both my parents are gone..."

We just sat there for a moment, holding hands, my right hand still on his knee, staring in to each other's eyes, the radio the only sound. Both of us had leaned in a little more, like there was a gravitational pull between us.

John Mellencamp's "Hurt So Good" came on the radio, flowing through the speakers.

"Sink your teeth right through my bones, baby, Let's see what we can do, come on and make it up. Hurt so good. Come on baby, make it hurt so good..." Sam's knuckles nearly turned white on his left hand, gripping the steering wheel. I saw him glance at me out of the corner of his eye before he gave my hand a small squeeze, removed his hand from mine, and punched a button on the stereo, changing the station.

"I hope to God I mean a little more than the sounds that escape your tired four a.m. lips, And oh-how I wish I meant a little more than a symphony of heavy breathing and the friction of hips..." One of my favorite songs, I was a little disappointed when Sam quickly turned the tuner, changing the station again.

"Stop beatin' 'round the bush, hey, Let's get it on..." I bit back a laugh and ended up snorting. My cheeks flaming, I looked up at Sam to see if he'd tease me like Dean would have. Instead, he just smiled at me as he turned the dial again. I squirmed a little in my seat, Sam's gentle expression and the song lyrics getting to me.

My right hand was where Sam had left it on the console, my left still on the end of Sam's knee. I started to pick my hand up from his leg, expecting that the contact was beginning to feel too intimate for Sam. Instead, he placed his hand over mine on his knee, both of us still leaning close.

I looked back up at Sam and we made eye contact. A minute or so passed before I could focus on anything but Sam. We were so close, he could easily lean in and kiss me. And at that moment, I wanted nothing more. When I finally heard the lyrics, I felt my face heat up.

"I don't care who leads as long as we move horizontally, Anyone can make you sweat, but I can keep you wet..." Sam's eyes showed his discomfort and his face flushed. He punched the power button, turning the radio off and giving up. It was like the fates were against him, as he tried and failed to avoid any song remotely sexy. I flat out laughed then, not holding back for his pride or my own. I may have found humor in the situation purely because I was so embarrassed. Here I was lusting over the man I was sitting next to, and nothing but sex songs were on the radio. I turned to Sam, smiling.

"Haley, I..." Sam let whatever he was going to say trail off. He watched me for a minute and I felt my insides quiver and squirm under his undivided attention. I couldn't take my eyes off his, my mind racing with all the things I wanted to ask him clouded by all the things I wanted to do to him.

Sam turned in his seat a little towards me and leaned in a fraction. I felt my body moving of its own accord, turning toward his, matching Sam's movements.

Sam's eyes darted to my lips and I immediately mirrored him. I mindlessly licked at my bottom lip and watched as Sam leaned in just a little more.

"Sam..." His name was barely a whisper, almost a moan. It was a question and a statement and quite nearly a beg. I leaned into him, not even thinking about what I was doing, but needing to be closer to him, even if it was only an inch or two.

Suddenly, he was on me. Sam's right hand was in my hair, his left on the dashboard supporting his weight. He hovered just an inch from my face, almost asking me permission before pressing his mouth to mine.

What was gentle quickly turned passionate. Sam came slightly off his seat and was leaning over me now, even closer than before.

I ran my hands down his hard chest, up in his shaggy hair, down his sides. My heard was racing, my breathing staggered. I felt myself rake my nails across Sam's back over his shirt and he let out a low moan. I felt a rumble in my own throat in response. I was past desire and want and crashing into need.

Without warning, Sam pulled back, collapsing into his seat, breathing heavy.

"Haley," he breathed. The way he panted my name made me ache and wonder what the hell he was doing on the other side of the car.

"I'm sorry. I- I just can't. I'm so sorry." Sam looked hurt and that made it hurt me less. I wanted to reach out and hold him and just tell him it would be okay, but my own need was screaming out to be answered, too.

"It's alright," I whispered, looking at my lap, fiddling with the hem of my jeans. "But. Can you tell me what's going on?" I looked up at Sam, struggling to keep my expression neutral.

"It's just-"

And at the most inopportune moment, a girl came running past the car screaming. Sam looked at me one last time, pained.

"I'm sorry."

Sam grabbed his knife from under the seat and jumped out of the car, running after the girl and the vampire that was chasing her. I heaved a sigh, fighting back frustrated tears, got out of the car, and chased after Sam. At the very least, I could help get the girl safe and out of the way.

**So there's chapter 10... What'd you think? A lists of the songs I used in the chap and as inspiration: John Mellencamp- "Hurt So Good", The Spill Canvas- "Himerus and Eros", Marvin Gaye- "Let's Get It On", Jordan Knight- "Give It To You". Ok. See that little review button down here? Push it for me? Thanks!**


	12. Chapter 11

**AN: I am so sorry it has taken me this long to post an update. I promise it won't be this long on the next one. There's been some RL stuff keeping me busy, my muse has apparently been flirting with other writers, and I've just been so darn tired I can't focus long enough to make a sensible sentence. All that aside, I have to say that I don't own Sam or Dean Winchester or the Supernatural series. I just borrowed a couple characters... And a bit of conversation from a couple different episodes... :)**

It was early the next morning before we crawled back in the door to my house. I looked Sam over, taking in the small gash on his left arm, under his rolled up flannel sleeve. He had blood spattered on his dark shirt and jeans, no doubt having dressed expecting some stains, and some splatter on his face. I wondered if I looked as bad.

"You go ahead and shower. I'm going to soak my clothes." I was almost out of the room before I turned to look at him, walking backwards. "Toss your clothes outside the door if you want me to wash them." I tried to smile at him before I turned and took another step.

Sam's long legs carried him behind me in seconds. He placed his hand on my shoulder and I froze. He dropped it before he spoke.

"Haley, I owe you an explanation."

I turned around to look him in the eye.

"No. You don't really know me, you don't owe me anything. You were right to halt this... Thing between us. We should... Take a breather. Don't want this to interfere with the case and all..."

I went in to my room and heard the bathroom door shut behind me a minute later. I dug through my bureau and pulled out a pair of old shorts and a tank. Rolling the clean clothes up, I shoved them under my arm and walked into the hall to see if Sam's clothes were out there yet.

I crossed the hall and grabbed his things off the floor, hearing the shower turn on. I tried not to imagine a wet, naked Sam as I made my way out to the garage where my washer and drier were.

I threw Sam's jeans and bloody shirt in the washer, laying my clothes on the edge. I quickly yanked off my jeans and threw them in, pulling my shorts up immediately after. My blood stained shirt came up over my head and into the wash. I grabbed my clean tank from the ledge of the washer just as I heard a voice clear from behind me. I felt all the blood drain from my face. I yanked my shirt down and turned around, still sliding my arms through the sleeves.

Dean stood in the doorway, the biggest smirk I had ever seen splitting his face.

"What are you doing out here?" I was trying not to shout, already annoyed and frustrated with Sam.

"I just got in and was headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. You left the door open. Didn't know it was an invitation." Dean was slowly making his way down the stairs. I was a little concerned he might stumble and fall down the three steps.

I was unreasonably irritated. It was my fault he'd seen me half naked to begin with. "It wasn't an invitation," I grumbled, turning around to start the soak cycle.

Dean came up behind me, standing so close I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

I turned slowly, looking him in the eyes when I'd come full circle.

Dean took another step forward, we were nearly toe to toe. He looked down with just his eyes, never moving his head, pointedly looking at my breasts. I felt my breathing stutter and my heart rate quicken.

Apparently, even with my crush on Sam, my body would still react to Dean. This would have been good news if they weren't brothers.

"You know, it's a shame you didn't turn around sooner." I rolled my eyes and gave him a gentle shove. "What?" Dean chuckled, his voice a little husky. "You owe me."

"I don't owe you shit. That was an honest mistake, even if you set it up." I tried to move around Dean, to get back up the stairs. Dean smacked me on the ass as I walked past him. I froze.

"Thanks for the peep show," Dean said, walking backwards. "Stuff wet dreams are made of right there." He pointed at me, almost like shooting a gun, then turned and ran up the stairs.

I just stood there, watching him leave, pulling the door shut behind him. I had swooned over Dean for three years. Why should now be any different? I felt on fire with Sam, but it could be good with Dean, too. Sam made it clear he wasn't interested, not ultimately. And the fire and ice bit was driving me mad. I couldn't keep up. So I would be friends with Sam, just friends, and move on.

I stopped and thought about the guy who had tried to hit on me the week before, when I'd gone out for drinks after work with a few co-workers. He'd been cute enough and I had accepted his phone number, but I hadn't been willing to give mine out or call him back. At the time, all I could think about was Dean.

I took a deep breath and headed towards the stairs. From now on, I would keep an open mind. I wouldn't turn anyone down solely on the potential of something happening with someone else. I might even call that guy from the bar…

I reached the bathroom just as Sam opened the door, workout shorts hanging low on his hips, water still beaded on his uncovered chest. I swallowed a gasp as I tried not to stare, feeling my face heat up. He was busy toweling his hair and didn't see me. Sam took a step and nearly collided with me. I hadn't realized I had been standing so close.

"Sorry," I uttered, taking a step backward.

Sam threw the towel over his shoulder and smiled at me. "Sorry I didn't see you there. It's all your's."

I smiled faintly and entered the bathroom as Sam left. Closing the door, I took a deep breath. It was still steamy and smelled like Sam. I took another deep breath, taking it in. If I wasn't careful, I'd need a cold shower.

After my shower, I wrapped my towel around myself and peeked out into the hall. I didn't see or hear either of the boys, so I assumed they had already fallen asleep. I darted across the hall to my room. Just as I was shutting my door, I heard Dean's loud mouth.

"Damn. Lucky me. Twice in one night?"

"Shit!" My voice was low as I cursed myself and my luck. I hurried to get clean clothes on as Dean knocked on my door.

"What, Dean?" I groaned.

"How'd you know it wasn't Sammy?"

"Lucky guess. What do you want?"

I heard the door crack and tripped over my shorts as I was stepping in, jumping to hold the door shut.

" 'What do you want' does not equal 'please come in'."

I heard Dean chuckle and thought Sam might have groaned.

"My mistake. I was thought you might need some help in there with something."

"Dean." I definitely heard Sam that time, and the warning in his voice.

"Sorry, Darlin'. Looks like Sammy here has something he needs to talk to me about. Looks like I'm going to have to offer a rain check on that one."

I rolled my eyes as I took a tentative step away from the door. When it didn't fly open, I grabbed my shorts from the floor and yanked them on, hurrying to get dressed before Dean threw the door open.

Once I had clean shorts and a tank on, I headed to the kitchen to grab a snack and water before I headed to bed. I heard Sam and Dean in there talking. Just as before, I couldn't help myself. I knew it was wrong, but I eavesdropped anyways. Leaning against the wall, I positioned myself so I could easily hear them and peek in the room from time to time.

"Dean, are you drunk?" Sam was clearly exasperated with Dean, talking in loud, forced whispers. Dean casually walked over to my kitchen table, pulled a chair out and turned it around, scraping it across the linoleum.

"It was just a couple of beers, Sammy. Don't get your panties in a twist," Dean said, slowly lowering himself into the chair, sitting backwards.

"Couple of beers my ass. You can barely walk. Where have you been all night?"

"I've been... Out."

"Out. Getting laid. Dean, you're supposed to be helping me on this case, not getting fucked and fucked up."

"I had an itch. It needed scratching." I could hear the shrug in his voice.

"Dean. I know why you were out tonight. I just wish you'd stop being so flippant about it and just talk to me."

"Look Sam, just drop it. Consider it a dying man's wish and let's move on."

"A dying man's wish, huh? And how many of those should I grant you?"

"Uh. A year's worth?"

"Dean. You only have 9 months left."

"Guess we'll have to cram it all in, then. Look, Sam. What would you rather I do? Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm going to die? Here. I got one. What rhymes with 'shut up, Sam'?"

"Drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punchline. And you know something else? Quit trying to act like you're not afraid." Sam's voice was raised, he had almost given up with the hasty whispers.

"I'm not."

"You're lying. And you may as well drop it 'cos I can see right through you."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Dean stood, pushed the chair back half-assed, and walked to my back door, looking outside. His back was to Sam, but I knew that was just so Sam couldn't see the look on his face. Dean hated anything remotely emotional.

"Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year's running out and you're still going to hell and you're freaked."

I think my breathing stopped. I think my heart stopped. I'd been listening to them talk about Dean dying, not really knowing what was going on, but when Sam mentioned Dean going to hell? I thought I might vomit. I did everything I could to stay glued to that wall. I bit my knuckles. I held my breath. And eventually, I slid down the wall and hugged my knees. I didn't want to interrupt them when they were finally talking, no matter how dysfunctional the conversation actually was.

Dean turned to Sam and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah? And how do you know that?"

"Because I know you." I could hear tears in Sam's voice now. If he started crying, I knew I would, too. So I sat there listening in on a private moment, both ashamed of myself and unable to tear myself away, silently praying Sam wouldn't cry.

"Really? You know me?" Dean sounded slightly surprised, but also like he was challenging Sam. Dean was a hard guy to get to know, but Sam would know him better than anyone.

"Yeah. Because I've been following you around my entire life. I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was _four_, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this? This is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean- I can't blame you. I just. Look. I just wish you would drop the show and be my big brother again."

Dean took a tentative step and I could tell he was still drunk. Otherwise, I doubt he would have listened to half that.

"Didn't Haley have some beers here somewhere?"

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. "Dean."

I heard myself sniffle and knew I'd given myself away. In the moment, I was hurt. Angry. How could Dean not tell me this?

I stood up and rounded the corner, now leaning against the entrance-way into the kitchen. Tears immediately flooded my eyes when I saw Dean standing there, defiant, and Sam looking so hurt.

"Dean, you son-of-a-bitch. I don't know what shit you got yourself in to, but how could you hide something like that from me?" I had tried to yell, but I barely got louder than Sam's whispers.

"Aw, not you, too." Dean threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes.

"Dean," Sam groaned, "I wish you'd let me try and get you out of it."

"Can't, Sammy. I'll go directly to jail, will not pass go, won't collect my $200. Now drop it." Dean was irritated and clenching his jaw. "And Sammy-" Dean turned to Sam, now as defiant as ever. "I don't want to hear another damn word about how I need to be handling this. Not until you get your own shit sorted out." Dean walked to the fridge and pulled the door open; the glass bottles in the door jingled in his haste. Dean bent over, searching for a beer bottle. Once he found one, he stood and popped it open, shutting the door with his foot, and taking a long pull.

"_Me_? Dean, my shit's just fine."

Dean pointed his beer bottle in my direction and I had a sudden craving for alcohol, myself.

"You call that _fine_?"

I wanted to hide.

Sam looked at me and then at Dean. "Dean, I'm just saying that maybe if you talked about your deal, got it off your chest a little, then you wouldn't have moments like these. Moments when you freak out and get lit, the go off gallivanting with some floozy you picked up in a bar. I mean, that behavior isn't abnormal for you, but it's been happening more and more frequently lately and I think-"

"Sammy, I've hardly been gallivanting. Working off a little extra stress, yes, but gallivanting? Maybe you should do more gallivanting and less working. All work and no play, after all. And, Sammy? You need more play." Dean winked at me then as he took another pull from his beer. I could feel my face heat up. Sam turned to look at me from the corner of his eye and I could tell he was embarrassed, too.

"Alright, Dean. You've been drinking. Can we just finish the conversation in the morning? When you're sober?" Sam looked exhausted.

"Well, you like her, don't you?" Dean pointed his beer bottle at me again, then tipped the bottle to drain the remains. "You like her. And Haley, you like him, right? You're both consenting adults…" Sam looked over his shoulder in my direction then heaved a sigh.

"Dean…"

"Well?" Dean had spotted my half-empty bottle of tequila on top of my fridge and was already taking a swig from it. "You do like her, don't you? You two can barely stand each other, you want each other so badly."

Sam ran his hands through his hair, something I'd noticed him do when he was frustrated. I was a little frustrated, too. "And what's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave."

Dean scoffed. "I'm not talking about marriage, Sammy."

Sam was visibly shaken up now. "You know, I don't get it, Dean. What do you care if I hook up?"

Dean chuckled. "So maybe you won't be so cranky all the time?" Sam stuttered a bit before Dean just talked right over him. "Seriously, Sam. This isn't just about hooking up. I think she'd be good for you." Dean, again, pointed the bottle at me and I wondered why I was even still in the room. "And I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? Now, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but I would think she'd want you to be happy. God forbid have fun once in a while. Right?"

My mind started racing through everything I could remember hearing about Sam. Anyone named Jessica and how she could be involved. I drew a blank.

"Yeah. But that's not all it's about." Sam turned and looked me dead straight in the eyes. I felt my face flush in embarrassment and shame. But Sam didn't look mad or upset or accusing. He just looked hurt. And scared. Sam looked like the vulnerable little boy Dean had helped raise and I knew just by looking at him why Dean would fight so hard to keep him safe. Sam didn't look like he could make it on his own.

"Right, Sam. Well, why don't you two go work it out between the sheets. I'm heading to bed." Dean walked past Sam, clapping him on the shoulder along the way, and set the bottle of tequila on the table. Then he slapped me on the ass after bumping in to me, before stumbling down the hall.

I looked up at Sam to see him already watching me, an unreadable expression on his face.

**AN: So yeah. There it is. Read and Review?**


	13. Chapter 12

**AN: Hey! Here we are again. This one's short, but it wraps up a very important part pretty nicely, so I ended it there. Just know that I'm already in the process of another update, so you won't be waiting long... Also... Whether you love it or hate it or can offer advice... Please review? Thanks! 3 Oh. btw- I don't own Sam or Dean. That's pretty much a given, though.**

"So I guess we need to talk..." Sam ran his hand through his hair again and bit absentmindedly at his lip.

I nervously looked around the room. Anywhere but at him.

"No. I mean. Its-" I glanced at the clock. "It's after four. We should get some sleep."

Sam ran his hand through his hair and down his face. "No. I've avoided this long enough. Come on." Sam gingerly took my hand, really only grasping a couple fingers, and led me to the couch in the living room. Sam sat down on the far end of the couch, making sure he had left enough room for me.

I sat facing Sam, leaning against the back of the couch, and nervously scratched at a small stain on the couch cushion."You know, Sam, you don't have to do this. It's really none of my business."

"No. I want to. You deserve to know. We need to talk about it." Sam scooted a fraction closer, bringing his knee up on to the couch so he could face me better. He took both of my hands in his own and held them in his lap. We were sitting so close I could smell him, every individual scent that made up Sam. The freshness of his soap to the muskiness of his aftershave.

"The thing is... I have really bad luck with relationships." Sam offered a tentative smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Dean doesn't like to talk about this stuff, so its a little weird voicing it... But... Everyone I've ever been close to... They die."

I tried not to show emotion. I didn't want to make his any harder for Sam than it already was. I wanted to pull him close and tell him everything would be okay. I wanted to cry with him. And I wanted to shout with joy that he was finally letting me in. I just squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue.

"Take my mom for example. I guess she set the standard. She died in my room trying to protect me when I was just a baby. I never had a good relationship with Dad. I guess he always held it against me. It was because of me that she died. Growing up, I never had a chance to make friends or date, as we got older. We were on to a new city before I even really got to know anyone. But once I went to college, that all changed. I could finally relax and meet new people. I could date." Sam looked carefully at me for a moment. I imagined he was judging just how much he should divulge. I smiled. I wanted Sam to feel comfortable sharing all this with me.

"I met Jess right away. She was everything I needed then- Patient, quiet, encouraging, she respected my privacy... We were together for over a year... You know, I'd thought about proposing..." Sam's pitiful smile reached his eyes that time. I felt a pang, but I wasn't sure if it was for him or me. I barely knew the guy, so surely I wasn't jealous of some girl from his past. I must've felt heartache for him and his crap luck.

"Dean met her, briefly, when he came to tell me about Dad missing. And you know what he did?" Sam paused a moment, reflecting, almost laughing to himself. "He hit on her. The last time I saw her alive and that s.o.b hit on her." Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes, and looked up at me. I could see pain behind the laughter and it made me ache more.

"You can imagine that after I came home to find her pinned to our ceiling the same way Mom died, I convinced myself that all women in my life are cursed to end up that way. Imagine my surprise when I had to be the one to kill Madison. And Dean's stubborn ass is on its way hell because of some shit deal he made. Turns out, everyone I care about dies. Not just the women. One way or another, everyone dies. And its directly related to me."

I couldn't think of anything to say. Everything sounded so... Cheap. I chewed on my lip a while and squeezed Sam's hand before even gathering the guts to look him in the eye after his admission. I was certain it must've been hard on him to talk about. Honestly, it was a little hard to hear. I had completely shrugged his issues off before hand. I assumed it was some guy b.s. reason for bailing on feeling any real emotion. But Sam's problems were real and his track record scared me a little. Ok. It scared me a lot.

"Look, I know it's not fair to just dump all this on you and expect it not to influence how we... interact. I just want you to know that you can take all the time you need to think about this. And if you decide you don't want to be... further involved... I understand." Sam had looked me straight in the eye at first, but turned his eyes down at the end. He was still holding my hands, looking at them as he ran his thumb absentmindedly over the backs of my hands.

"I-" I don't know what I was about to say. Truth is, I only opened my mouth because I felt like I had to say something. But I was relieved when Sam stopped me.

"Hey, its late. We should get some sleep. Just think about it. I don't want you to say anything until you've really had a chance to think it through."

So that was it. Sam stood, so I followed suit. He took my hands again and I just stood there, not knowing what to say or do, waiting. Just waiting.

And Sam took me in his arms, holding me closer than he ever had, more intimately, and he kissed me on my forehead, tenderly. He tucked my head under his chin and I took a deep breath, breathing him in, not wanting this moment to end. Not wanting to have to face reality or make any sort of decision. This man could very really be the death of me.

"Haley. I just want you to know that whatever you decide, I'll stand behind. This is what's been holding me back. This one thing. If I know that you're still in, knowing the risks, I'm in, too." Sam pulled back, looking me dead in the eye, letting me know just how serious he was. The corner of his mouth turned up in a half-ass grin and he ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek, then he let go.

Sam took a step back and there was no where else for me to go but to bed. But I knew there was no way I would actually be going to sleep.

**AN: So there you are. I only have one request. You already read it, please review. Reviews = love. Or at least like. Ok, ok. They make me feel good, and who doesn't like that every now and again?**


	14. Chapter 13

I woke in a cold sweat, wrestling with my sheets, fighting for my life. I tried to remember why I was scared. I squinted at my alarm clock on the night stand; it was 6:30 and the sun was already coming up.

I must have finally dozed off around five; I remembered looking at the clock at 4:30 and had tossed around for a while after that.

And then it hit me. Dread and fear and hope and nausea. I remembered what Sam had told me the night before, merely hours before. I remembered my nightmare, being pinned to the ceiling, fighting against an unknown force that held me there. Visions flooded my brain from the dream, so real I could almost feel the heat from the fire that had engulfed me just before I woke up.

My stomach rolled and heaved and I flew from the bed. I dry heaved in the bathroom, gripping the toilet seat and crying. When my stomach quieted, I washed my face and brushed my teeth, then headed into the kitchen. I didn't even want to try to go back to sleep now for fear of another dream.

Dean was already in the kitchen going through my cabinets, his jeans hanging low on his hips and his chest bare. His short hair was tousled, obviously he just woke up, himself. Dean turned to me as I pulled out a chair. "You're up early."

I could only grunt in response. I took a deep breath, inhaling coffee and bacon.

"Mmm. You've been busy." I smiled and felt myself relax a little when Dean set a cup of hot coffee in front of me.

"And you look like hell."

I waved my hand at him, hoping he wouldn't press for details. "Just a bad dream." I got up and brought my coffee mug to the counter, fished out the bottle of Irish whiskey from on top of my fridge, and poured in a generous shot.

"One of those mornings, huh? I guess Sam told you about his dick of death, then?" Dean was suddenly behind me, one hand on the small of my back and the other reaching for the whiskey.

I felt the familiar drop of dread in the pit of my stomach. I felt my throat constrict and the blood drain from, well, from my entire body. My fingers and toes were suddenly ice cold and I felt dizzy.

I cleared my throat, testing my ability to talk. "His-" My voice squeaked and I tried again. "His 'dick of death'?" I gulped my spiked coffee, clanking it against the counter as I sat it down hastily.

Dean chuckled and helped me back to my chair. "Considering your parents were hunters, I thought you'd take this a little better."

I sat down and laid my head on my crossed arms. Dean pulled out a chair opposite me and ran his hand roughly down his face. "You're both being rediculous. You know that, right?"

I heaved a sigh and peered up at Dean. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I'm guessing your little nightmare had something to do with Sam coming clean, right? All his fears, all the truths... They all get jumbled up in his head. I mean, the kid feels responsible for a death just because he couldn't stop it. That kind of guilt can eat a guy up."

"What are you getting at?"

"Look. We're hunters. We're gonna see more death, friends are gonna die. But they're in the business, too. Occasionally there's a casualty. Like Mom. Like Jessica. But these things are killing people we don't know, people we've never met. Jess could've been on the hit list with or without Sammy. Sammy can't take the blame for everything."

I leaned back in my chair to watch Dean. "So you're saying-"

"I'm saying you're in to each other. Don't let Sammy's stupid guilt come between you. Besides. He'll need someone else to talk to... You know. Later..." Dean got up and moved to the stove. I watched the muscles in his back dance as he shuffled things around.

"Speaking of, it seems I owe you an ass chewing."

"No, you don't." Dean sat a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of me, leaning in far too close for comfort. "Look. Sammy was dead. I found a way to get him back. End of story." Dean stood and went to the fridge, pulling out the Orange juice, jelly, and butter. "Eat your shit before it gets cold."

I hadn't even realized I wasn't eating before he called me on it. I stared at my plate before tentatively taking a bite of eggs. I had nearly finished everything off before Sam came in.

Sam grabbed a coffee mug and poured himself a glass, immediately taking a sip. I was trying to be discreet, watching Sam out of the corner of my eye, but when Sam stretched and Dean had his back to me, I openly ogled. Sam's muscles rippled as he raised his hands over his head. His gym shorts dropped an inch and his back flexed and relaxed.

Apparently even the possibility of a death threat hanging over my head wouldn't cool my reaction to Sam.

I heard a clatter on the table and looked up to see Dean smirking at me. I quickly plated the fork that I had been subconsciously mouthing, my ears and cheeks hot.

"Well, gee. It looks like I have some work to do. Research or something. I'll see you kids later."

I glared at Dean as he patted Sam on the shoulder, and then me, before he grabbed his keys and walked out the door. I stared at the closed door for a minute, considering payback of some sort, before turning to Sam. He was standing with his hands resting on the chair back beside me. I felt myself gulp as I tried not to stare at his naked chest. As I tried not to run my fingers down his chiseled abs, tried not to think about licking my way up the tendons in his neck.

Sam pulled the chair out, eyeing me warily, and began to pick at his food.

"Hey, Sam, I-" Sam's head snapped up and he turned his chair to face me. "I mean, I-" Sam reached for my hand, instinctively knowing how to calm me. He scooted his chair closer, directly in front of me now.

"Haley, I know its not fair for me to ask you to forget about the risks, I just... I hoped that with your parents being hunters, maybe you could look past them a little better..."

I smiled and squeezed Sam's hands. "You have to let me talk. Sammy, I... I don't care. I mean. Dean had a good point-"

Sam sighed and dropped his head, looking down for a minute before raising only his eyes to look at me. "So Dean knows we talked about it?"

"Yes, but he approached me. I didn't go to him."

"What did he say? I'm sure he was completely blowing it off..."

"Well, yeah. But he had a point. I think maybe you're taking too much responsibility for what happens. Even I know that being a hunter... You're around death a lot more than the average person. It doesn't mean you're cursed. It just means you're unfortunate. I'm so sorry... About everything. But. I'm not worried about it, really. I'm in."

**A/N: So what did you think? Good? bad? Indifferent? Thanks for reading and taking the time to leave a review... Because I know you will... :)**


	15. Chapter 14

**AN: Warning, this chapter is almost pure smut. There isn't much real content to this chapter, so it's skipable if you so choose. It's the first chapter I've ever posted like this, or allowed anyone to read, so go easy on me. :)**

**I do not own Sam or Dean, but I would gladly borrow them...**

Sam looked at me, long and hard. I could tell he was having a battle in his head, and I had a feeling the instinct to protect me would win out.

"Sammy, don't." We had finally made progress. Too much progress to go back to the way things were. I was sincerely hoping he wouldn't change his mind now.

Instead, he just leaned forward slightly and ducked his head. I took it to mean he acquiesced.

We sat there for a moment, still holding hands. Suddenly I realized we were both sitting as close as we could get, knees touching, leaning so close our noses nearly touched. Before I knew what I was doing, before I could stop myself, I had clasped Sam's shirt desperately in my fingers. I was on him in seconds, hungrily kissing him before it even registered what I was doing. Mid-kiss, I finally caught on and began to panic.

"I'm so sorry," I said, pulling back just enough to talk. I was out of breath and my voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know what I was thinking." I looked down, embarrassed.

Sam grinned at me, then leaned forward. "I know exactly what you were thinking, and you're right."

Sam kissed me then, not as frantic as I had been, but passionate. He ran his large hands up my arms and down my sides, resting on the small of my back. He took me by surprise when he let his hands fall lower, cupping my ass, and pulling me to him, causing me to straddle him. He never once broke the kiss.

We were still in that position, with me on Sam's lap, feeling just how excited he was getting, when Dean walked in. Neither of us heard him, at first.

"Don't mind me, turns out I forgot my money." Dean said, as he blew past us in the kitchen to get his wallet from his bedroom. "Leaving now. Carry on." Dean turned around at the last second, standing in the threshold to the living room. "Hey, Sammy. I'll be quiet getting in... So I don't interrupt." Dean waggled his eyebrows at us before turning and sprinting back out the front door.

I had tried sliding out of Sam's lap when I first heard Dean, but Sam just held me tighter, nuzzling my neck and making me giggle.

"You know your food's getting cold," I whispered, so full of desire I was unable to speak at full volume.

Sam loosened his hold on me, giving me a parting kiss and allowing me to slip back in to my own seat. Sam had just taken a couple of bites when Dean had came back through.

"So what's the plan for today?" I was grasping at straws, trying to get us talking. The kiss had multiplied my sexual frustration and it was proving difficult to get my brain fully functioning again.

Sam glanced at the door and pushed his plate aside. With a devlish grin, he grabbed for me, pulling me back into his lap and holding me close.

"This is my only plan," Sam whispered, his voice raspy and deep.

Sam placed his hands back on my ass and pulled me as close as I could get. I could feel every inch of him through our thin cotton shorts.

He kissed the corner of my mouth and I ran my hands through his hair, down his arms, up his back. His mouth was on mine so suddenly I gasped before giving myself over to the kiss. I felt Sam shift underneath me and felt my legs instinctively clench around him.

Sam stood, my body still wrapped around his, and carried me to my bedroom. I felt my stomach quiver in nervous anticipation. Sam carried me through the threshold, pressing me against the back of my bedroom door as he shut it.

Sam allowed me to slide down his body, still pressed against the back of the door, feeling every inch of him against me along the way. As my toes reached the floor, his mouth reached my neck, hot and wet and intoxicating.

Without warning, he took me in his arms, wrapping them around my body and fiercely pulling me to him. He pressed his lips to mine, waiting for me to submit. When my lips parted, he nibbled my bottom lip before licking the spot, then licking his way into my mouth. His hands wound up my back, under my arms, and into my hair. I slid my hands up his stomach, feeling his abs quiver slightly at my touch.

Sam took a step backwards towards my bed, taking me with him. I took another step. Sam and I stayed intertwined the entire time, never breaking the kiss.

Sam made the last step, turning me so the back of my knees hit the mattress. He gently laid me down, my feet hanging off the bed. I reached to pull him on top of me, he nudged my legs apart with his knee. I pulled my right leg onto the mattress and scooted over a bit. Sam eased himself down, slowly climbing up the length of me, crawling between my legs, making me ache when we touched, before finally leaning on his elbows to keep his weight off of me. He bit at my lip again before kissing me, moving from my mouth, across my jaw, down my neck. He nipped at my ear when he reached it, always licking where he'd bit to soothe any discomfort. When he reached the base of my neck, he pressed his hips into me and bit at my neck, causing me to cry out when light exploded behind my eyes. The ache where he'd bit me dwarfed by the ache between my legs.

Sam leaned up to look at me, a devilish look in his eyes and a cocky smile on his lips.

"We're going to need to drown you out." He glanced at the clock radio on my nightstand. "How do you turn that thing on?"

I reached over and flipped the switch, turning on the cd I had been listening to earlier.

Sam continued kissing me, his hands tangling back in my hair as I raked my nails up his sides and squirmed beneath him, trying to make contact. Sam gasped and groaned, and broke the kiss with a chuckle when the chorus started. "And in a flash, she was on top of me, and this is all she said: be as quiet as you can..."

"Think you can be quiet?" I grinned bashfully at Sam. As good as he made me feel, I wasn't sure I could.

Sam tucked his hands under my back and waist, kissing me passionately, holding me close. He rolled us over and pulled at the hem of my shirt. I sat up, straddling him, and raised my arms to help him take my shirt off. When my shirt was on the floor, I started to lean back over, anxious to be close to Sam again. He stopped me, though, placing his hands on my shoulders, just looking at me, running his hands all over my body. After a minute, he sat up, pulled me close to him, just holding me there. He kissed my forehead, ran his hands down my back, intertwined our hands. I was sitting on his lap, facing him, with my legs wrapped around behind him. I looked up at Sam with so much more than only lust pounding in my heart, coursing through my body. He bent to kiss me, not chastely, but sweetly.

I shifted to get more comfortable, accidentally grinding our bodies together. That reignited the fire and I gritted my teeth in a fight for control of my body. Sam deftly unclasped my bra and slid it over my shoulders. He pulled me close again, pressing our bodies together, everywhere, attacking my lips with his own. I could feel his desire through my thin cotton shorts and felt a soft moan escape, birthed from my own need. I threw my arms around his neck, tangling my hands in his hair, pulling gently as I lifted onto my knees. Sam let out a groan, guttural and deep, as he slid his hands down my bare back and cupped my ass. He hooked his thumbs in the back of my waistband and guided me, slowly sliding me down his body, to sit back on top of him, rocking his hips to greet me.

Sam raised onto his knees, holding me in place, my legs still wrapped tight just above his hips. He turned and gently laid me down as the lyrics from the song floated over to me. "As quiet as I can, No I can't, No I can't, I am only a man…"

He placed kisses down my neck, trailing his finger tips slowly, seductively, down the opposite side of my body. Sam's hot mouth moved to my ribs, the side of my breast. He kissed the underside of my breast, then moved to scrape his teeth gently over my nipple. I squirmed, I bit my lip to keep from screaming out in want, and I wrapped my legs around Sam, digging my heels into his ass to pull him onto me. When he ground into me as he scraped across my other nipple, I did cry out. Sam took my mouth with his own, muffling my desperation.

I sucked his tongue into my mouth and he kissed me back fiercely, snaking one arm under my back and pressing our bodies together, groaning. He sat back on his knees, running his hands down my body, stopping at the top of my shorts. He curled his fingers under the waistband and looked at me with want in his eyes. And I wanted it, too. I barely nodded my head and raised my ass so he could slide my shorts down.

"Are you sure?" Sam whispered huskily.

I nodded again, my eyes half closed, unable to think of anything else as want and need coursed through my body. Sam slowly slid my shorts down my legs and dropped them on the floor with my shirt.

Sam ran a hand up the inside of my naked thigh, all the way up, grazing my core and causing me to take a sharp breath. I gasped and moaned and he did it again as he lowered himself on top of me. I squeezed my knees against his hips, needing somewhere to focus my pent-up energy. I grabbed the top of Sam's shorts and pulled him closer, then ran my fingers inside the hem, stating my intentions. Sam raised just enough I couldn't push his shorts past his ass.

"Haley, are you sure?" Sam's voice was stern.

"Saaammmmy," I half whined. I was so frustrated with desire, it was almost a moan.

Sam stood, letting his shorts hit the ground, and stepped out of them. He snuggled up next to me, running his hands over the curve of my breasts, down past my stomach and around to the inside of my thigh, and back up, hitting all my most sensitive spots.

I groaned and looped my arm around his neck, trying to encourage him back on top of me. Sam quickly got the hint and quickly obliged.

He sat up on his knees and slowly, ever so slowly, lowered himself onto his hands on either side of my head. I parted my legs and Sam moved between them, cupping my face with his right hand. He allowed some of his weight to rest on me, the pressure intoxicating. I felt him, lined up, ready, and I wrapped my legs around his, begging for more. My heart was thumping in anticipation, the pounding echoing in my ears.

So when there was a knock on my door it took me a minute to realize the pounding was outside my body.

"Unnnghhh..." I couldn't form words. It was a cry of desperation, of want, of frustration.

"Haley?" Dean called from the other side if my door.

"What do you want, Dean." I groaned, trying not to grit my teeth in annoyance.

"Have you seen Sammy?""Nope. I think he left. Go look for him." I was desperate for him to go away.

I heard Dean grunt a response as he walked away and I threw my arms around Sam's neck to pull him close. Sam smiled and lowered his head to kiss me, slowly, passionately, building. I could feel him between my legs, excited, ready, and I thought I might explode, my need was so great. I kissed Sam's neck, just above his collar bone, licking my way up to his ear.

Sam groaned, low and guttural, and entered me. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, instead raking my nails down his back and felt his chest rumble with another quiet moan.

Sam and I quickly matched rhythms, muffling our pleasure with kisses. Just as I was coming undone, Sam's phone rang.

I watched Sam to see if he needed to get it and he just shook his head. After five rings it stopped, I assumed going to voice mail. Not even five seconds later, it started ringing again. They must have had Sam on speed dial.

Sam sighed and reached over the side of the bed, pulling his cell from the pocket of his shorts.

"Hey. What's the emergency?" Sam was still in me, but still. The adrenaline from almost climaxing was pumping through me and my body convulsed slightly. Sam had been listening to what the person on the other side was saying, but my wiggle brought his attention back.

Sam thrust deep and I grasped the sheets and bit my lip to hold in a moan. I heard him talking but had no idea what he was saying as I came apart. My awareness returned just in time to hear Sam say goodbye and see his toss his phone on the floor.

"You didn't wait for me," Sam teased.

"You didn't give me an option." I smiled back.

"Sorry I won't get to take my time with you like I intended. That was Dean. He found the nest." I just smiled and wiggled in reply. Sam took the hint and thrust deep, causing me to gasp and groan.

Sam made quick work of it and we both cried out only moments later.

"Sam?" Dean was outside my bedroom door in seconds. "So much for being at the library, huh?"

"Guess its time to get dressed, then." Sam sighed, pulling himself from my body and kissing me on the cheek before picking his shorts up off the floor and tossing me my clothes. "I plan to go slow next time." Sam pulled his shorts up and winked at me, waited for me to get dressed, then opened my door. Regardless of how much Dean seemed to encourage a relationship between Sam and I, I still was nervous about how he'd react.

**AN: So... What did you think? Too much? Reviews are love and I'm begging for them. :D**


	16. Chapter 15

**AN: Thanks for hanging in there, guys, and sorry about the wait. I kinda fell out of love with the show for a while (gasp! Yeah, I know...) so it was hard to write. I am now on a mission to finish this sucker off (haha) so I'll hopefully have it completed soon. Let me know what you think!**

"Um. So what'd you find?" I finally mumbled.

Dean turned around and gave me the once over. I silently prayed that everything was in order- my hair wasn't a lion's mane, my shirt wasn't inside out.

"Shit, Sammy. We're supposed to be hunting vampires not turning into them." Dean grabbed ahold of my head and tilted it, exposing my neck. I felt heat rise all the way from my toes as I tried to stamp down the embarrassment. "Are you marking your territory or something?"

Sam came out, still pulling his shirt over his head, and grinned widely at Dean. "So you found the nest?"

Dean rolled his eyes and walked back to the front door where his bag was laying on the floor. He bent and pulled a creased sheet of paper out, smoothed it across his hard stomach, and handed it to Sam.

"Looks like they're hiding out there, at the abandoned factory a couple blocks behind the club where the girls have disappeared."

"Ok. Do we have any dead man's blood left from last time?" Sam asked, snaking his arm around me.

"Stock is running low. I'll go get some while you get the stakes ready," Dean answered, catching Sam's eye and pointedly looking at his hand resting on my hip.

"Wait. Dead man's blood? Like. A dead man's blood?" Vampires and wendigos I could handle, but the thought of touching some dead person's blood made me feel light-headed.

"That's kinda the point, Sugar Lips." Sam cast a glare at Dean at his pet name for me. "What? It sounded like something you would say." Dean shrugged and chuckled before jiggling the keys in his pocket and turning to leave. "Oh. And no more hanky panky."

Once Dean had left, Sam pulled the duffel out and set it on the coffee table in front of the couch. He dug through and pulled out each stake, ten total, and lined them up. Next, he sifted through a pocket outside the bag and revealed a few sheets of heavy duty sand paper. I sighed as I realized what we would be spending our alone time doing...

I silently chastised myself for being so eager. We hadn't left the bedroom an hour ago, and I was already looking for the next opportunity.

"So we need a long, narrow point. Start about here... And get the end nice and sharp." Sam gave me brief pointers on how to do it and set me to work. I briefly glanced over to watch his arms flex and move. He had already finished two and I was still on my first. I noticed I was doing a half ass job, but didn't care. I huffed in frustration.

"No, like this." Sam set everything down to reach around me, wrapping me in his arms, to show me how to move my hands more efficiently. His nose accidentally brushed my ear and his hot breath hit my neck. My whole body was humming, like electricity buzzing from a live wire.

I may or may not have tilted my head, bringing Sam's mouth closer to the nape of my neck.

I felt Sam's breath let out in a rush before he ran the tip of his nose along my neck. I turned my head to kiss him and was suddenly on my back, Sam on top of me, my legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him into me, his mouth hot on mine. I ran my hands under Sam's shirt, up his muscular back, his fingers on my hips, pushing and pulling and frantic. In seconds, mine and Sam's shirts were in a heap on the floor. Sam was feverishly kissing me and working my shorts down. My hands were in his hair, drawing out a moan with every tug. Sam had just worked my shorts off when I heard a loud car roll by. I froze.

"How long before Dean gets back?"

"Maybe 30 minutes," Sam mumbled between kisses to my neck. Thirty minutes isn't long when you consider you have to be presentable within that time frame, too. I hooked my feet in Sam's work-out shorts and yanked them down, squirming to line us up, hoping he would take the hint. I didn't want Dean walking in on us.

The next twenty minutes were spent breathless and sweaty, frenzied. When we finally came back down and regained our breath, we slowly began to dress.

"Well that was fun," I said as I reached for my bra, giggling. Sam opened his mouth to say something when my door slammed open.

"Seriously?!"

Dean.

I snatched my shirt off the floor and held in front of my chest, covering myself. Dean glared at me, standing in my bra and shorts, and Sam, in his jeans, shirtless.

"So now that you've had sex you're going at it like rabbits?" Dean asked, bitching. Then he turned to Sam and growled, "Sam, you'd better watch it. You don't have the best track record." Dean practically slammed the bottle of blood on the coffee table in front of me and stormed to the guest room he took over. I jumped, startled, when his door slammed shut. I pulled my shirt on and sat on the couch where I had been working on the stakes. I picked one up and then sat it back down, not sure what to do with myself. Feeling guilty and ashamed and not really knowing why. Sam sat quietly next to me and picked up a stake, working furiously.

"So..." I started but couldn't finish. Sam paused, resting the backs of his hands on his knees, still holding the stake and sand paper, looked up at the ceiling, and sighed.

"Dean's probably right. We should cool it. At least until we've taken care of the coven."

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded, turning my eyes to the stakes and picking one up to work on. Sam and I sat like that for over an hour, quietly working on sanding the stakes, not saying a word.

**AN: Reviews = Love and I'm always happy to receive constructive criticism. Liked it? Hated it? Tell me! :)**


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